


Sucker Love

by Shurikenx



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brother/Brother Incest, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sibling Incest, Smut, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shurikenx/pseuds/Shurikenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Itachi/Sasuke AU. Life at Konoha Daigaku is about to become interesting for Sasuke, an only child, and the team leader of his University's renowned kendo team. A story of infatuation, sex, and campus life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Monday morning, and the sounds of the clock in the university's main tower which loomed high above the campus resounded nine heavy chimes. Sasuke, sitting on the stone wall that encircled the main fountain at the campus entrance, counted the chimes one by one. He blinked, shielding his eyes with one hand as he looked into the morning sun, letting the light fill his eyes and burn briefly, before he looked away. It was late summer, and already the sunlight had about it a certain coldness in the early mornings which seemed to herald the oncoming autumn. If you looked close enough, you could see how the leaves on the trees, still a lush vibrant green, were starting to curl slightly, their undersides beginning to swell with a touch of orange that was barely noticeable. Sitting on the fountain's edge, the water splashing down heavily behind him, Sasuke noticed the changing of the season.

He liked the summer. Living this far north in Japan, the summer seemed a blessing – especially when the winters here were felt so strongly. However much he and his friends might have complained about the itchy summer heat, the blinding sun, and the sweltering humidity – none of them could deny that it was more of a pleasure than it was an annoyance.

He watched the clock tower as the larger hand moved slowly past 9 o'clock, ticking away the minutes. He sighed, rubbing a hand through his dark hair as he looked around the university's entrance – keeping an eye out for his classmate who, as usual, was running late. _New term, same Naruto_ , he found himself thinking bitterly. Students bustled around him, laughing and joking as they headed towards the various buildings that were dotted around the square where he was sitting. Some raced up the huge granite steps into the main building directly opposite him, bags banging against their legs as they took the stairs two at a time, heavy with books and pamphlets on the campus and its programs. _Freshers_ , he thought, a faint smile crossing his lips. As a second year student, the initial first day of lessons and orientation seemed a distant memory. Soon enough they would learn that there was no real need to rush for the lessons; that the professors were usually ten minutes late to any classes in the morning due to their stop at the coffee machine on the way; that they wouldn't need to bring so many books to the class itself; that they wouldn't need their trusty campus maps after a few days, when they would have committed the main routes to their classrooms and the canteen hall to memory. He spotted some older students locking their bikes up under the bike shelters to the right of the main entrance, before they ambled up the steps and disappeared into the shadows of the entrance hall. The clock now read quarter past nine – and even if their professor _was_ running late, as he usually was, they were starting to cut it close for time.

From behind him, Sasuke heard the low rumble of a car engine pull leisurely into the drop off bay. Car doors opened and closed loudly. He turned, blinking into the sunlight as he looked past the roaring water of the fountain. The water caught the light and sparkled, dazzling him. It was a black BMW cab, and the driver was lowering his window as the passenger leaned in to speak. Sasuke noticed, oddly, that the passenger had long black hair, tied loosely into a ponytail which swung forward over the person's shoulder as he leant forward, passing what looked like a wad of notes through the tinted window. Oddly, the cab's number plate had the registration for one of the southern islands of Japan. Whoever the man was, he obviously wasn't from around here.

'Sasuke!'

He looked back to the university entrance, spotting the blond man frantically waving in his direction and shouting his name. He ran up to Sasuke, tugging at the orange hoodie he had tied around his waist in a knot, and wiping at the sweat that had beaded on his forehead under his rough blond hair. He grinned, and punched Sasuke hard in the shoulder.

'Morning!' He puffed, grinning at the way Sasuke scowled at his arrival.

'Why are you always so late?' Sasuke muttered in reply, hopping down from the fountain wall and shouldering his black rucksack as he did so. He know it was a stupid question.

'Well,' Naruto began, stretching his arms up behind his head and leaning back leisurely, 'I was having the most amazing dream about you, you handsome bastard, and I simply couldn't bear to wake myself up!' He laughed, dodging out of the way as his friend aimed a hard punch at his ribs. His laughter was bright, and Sasuke found himself not for the first time wondering how his friend seemed to have such unlimited energy so early in the morning.

'Ahh, a new year, but the same old shit,' Naruto said with a smile as they began to head towards the university's entrance. 'I wonder if Kakashi-sensei will actually show up this morning,' he asked, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out a frog shaped money pouch, which clinked with the sound of loose change. 'D'ya reckon there's time to grab a soda?'

Sasuke didn't reply. For some reason, he found himself pausing half way up the granite steps, one hand poised on the metal stair rail which was starting to warm in the sunlight. He turned to look back behind him, watching as the remaining few students disappeared off to their morning classes and lectures. The green trees lining the avenue up to the staircase rustled in the breeze, and Sasuke watched as two black crows squabbled over an empty crisp packet which had gotten swept up in the wind. The black BMW was still in the drop off bay, its engine purring gently as it idly sat there, as if waiting. The passenger, with his strange long hair, had retrieved a large duffel bag from the back seat, and slung it effortlessly over one shoulder. He closed the car door and raised a hand to the driver in thanks, before heading towards the grand fountain in the centre of the square.

'Oi, Sasuke!' Naruto yelled from the top of the stairs, the bright green frog wallet still in his hand. 'You gonna stand out here all day or something?'

Jumping up the last few steps, he shrugged off the unusual visitor. He was probably a training teacher, he figured, as he followed his friend into the cool shade of the building, sidling past the reception desk and down one of the many corridors which splintered off from the main entrance hall. As thoughts of the first lecture of the day came into his mind, all thoughts about the odd man and his expensive looking ride vanished. In the emptying square, the two crows picked apart the last of the crisp packet, cawed angrily at one another, and took to the sky on their dark wings.

* * *

'Oh man, I can't believe Kakashi-sensei didn't turn up until almost ten!' Naruto muttered, as they lined up for their hot lunches in the bustling canteen. The noise of chattering students created a buzz which filled the entire canteen hall, and with the heat of the hot food cooking away and the smell of strong coffee filling the air, the place was a sensory overload. Sasuke caught the eye of his fellow classmates entering the canteen across the room and raised his hand to get their attention. They headed over, pushing their way through the crowd of hungry students, some of whom were already opening their books and reading through their lecture notes, slurping on ramen noodles with their divided attention.

'Hey guys,' Neji said as he joined the queue behind Sasuke. 'First day back treating you guys the same way huh?' He nodded towards Naruto whose bright and cheerful attitude had slumped in the traditional post-lecture way. The blond made a murmur of agreement as he reached into the chiller cabinet and grabbed two energy drinks, ignoring Sasuke's look of disgust as he chucked them both down onto his serving tray. As great a professor as Kakashi-sensei was, it was hard to keep up any sort of enthusiasm after his lectures – most of which consisted of them reading from textbooks and re-writing their notes. 'Rumour has it Kakashi-sensei has a stash of porn novels in his desk,' Naruto had told him once, gesturing towards the desk at the front of the class where their professor sat, legs crossed atop it. That fact had piqued everyone's curiosity, and along with the fact that their professor always wore either a surgical face mask or a heavy scarf around the lower half of his mouth, most of his students spent their time envisioning exactly how he looked beneath his disguises. He was an odd professor, and yet his long list of academic achievements could not be ignored. It was an honour to be one of his pupils, despite his apparent love for erotica and constant tardiness.

Shikamaru Nara, Ino Yamanaka, and Sakura Haruno pushed into the queue behind Neji, all grabbing their own serving trays and swiping at the colds cans of soda, exchanging hellos as they did so. Naruto popped the cap on his energy drink, cursing as it fizzled and spat as if in protest, before reaching for a hot dish of ramen noodles and a melon bread with his other hand. He stuffed the melon bread into his mouth as he grappled with his frog wallet, fishing out the correct change for the bemused cashier. Sasuke tutted, reaching for a plate of cold soba noodles and grilled fish as he pushed Naruto roughly ahead, smirking as his friend choked on the pastry still in his mouth. Behind him, everyone started choosing their lunches.

'How's our team looking for the tournament this year Sasuke?' Neji asked as he loaded up his tray with lunch, ignoring the bickering from behind them as Sakura and Ino squabbled over the last portion of potato salad, elbowing each other out of the way as they did so. He was asking about one of the most important events of the Konoha Daigaku calendar – the Kendo competition. Sasuke, even as a second year student and by no means one of the oldest students on the team, was the team captain, and had led the Konoha team to winning the tournament cup twice in the first year alone. Having trained in kendo from an early age, Sasuke knew he was good, but it was only on coming to Konoha Daigaku that his potential had been discovered as uniquely special by the instructors. It was almost unheard of for a fresher to lead the team, but as of yet, the group had been undefeated under his lead. The older members of the team, including the third and fourth years, initially voiced their displeasure at being led by such a young student – but over the year had grown to admire their stoic team captain.

'We should be good,' Sasuke said, as the motley group of friends moved over to a free table in the corner of the canteen, heavily thudding their trays down to secure their seats. Naruto, spying the empty seat opposite Sakura, hurriedly pushed past everybody and grinned as he sat himself down. Sasuke rolled his eyes, more than happy to avoid the girls' attention if he could help it. He gladly let Naruto take the seat. 'If we can keep everybody's training up to at least three sessions in the week, possibly adding in a few practice sessions over the weekend, we should be fine.' He picked up his chopsticks and began picking apart the bones from his grilled fish, popping a morsel into his mouth. Delicious. 'Our first match is against Sunagakure Daigaku,' he added. 'So we stand a good chance if we stick to our practice schedules.' Neji nodded in approval, chugging a mouthful of crisp lemon soda. Across the table, Naruto was laughing as he slurped up his ramen, the hot soup splashing across the table and making the girls grimace in disapproval.

'You guys heading to practice after lunch?' Shikamaru asked as he leant across the table opposite Sasuke, taking a bite of his bread roll. Shikamaru, a lanky guy whose dark hair was tied back in spiked top knot, wasn't a member of the Kendo team like Sasuke and Neji, but was a strong supporter of the team regardless. Sasuke would have been surprised to ever find Shikamaru at the practice – or anywhere near a sporting team for that matter. Often referring to himself as the 'lazy bastard' of the group, he was more likely to be found in the quiet, cool shadows of the library, or playing the latest video game back in his dorm room. Sasuke nodded, finishing his fish and quickly checking his watch. 'Yeah, and I'd better get going. Freshers are trying out for the team today so I might as well get started on setting up.' Shikamaru sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiked hair. 'Freshers,' he muttered, 'why do they have to be such a drag?' Sasuke smirked at the sullen comment, tempted to remind him that they were only second years themselves, before he stood up and slung his back over one shoulder. The canteen was gradually starting to empty as students headed off for their next classes, and the loud buzz of noise was starting to lower. Naruto, spotting his friend getting ready to leave, frantically gestured towards to him. 'Hey Sasuke! Are you done with that melon pan?'

Sasuke shrugged and threw the wrapped bread to him, which Naruto snatched easily out of the air. He threw his friend a cheerful smile and a thumbs up, before tucking into the leftover treat.

'See you later guys,' Sasuke said as he raised a hand to his friends, who in turn waved him off. His friends were like family to him. Naruto, despite being a general pain, was one of his oldest friends, and having grown up together it didn't seem at all strange to find themselves attending the same university. For some reason he found himself thinking of his mother, back home in central Japan. It had always just been the two of them, ever since he could remember - and leaving her on her own to attend Konoha Daigaku had been a difficult decision to make. They still kept in contact with the occasional phone call and email, but he was happy to find that she seemed to be coping just fine without him during his first year away.

Chucking his soda can into the trash, he headed for the canteen exit along with the other crowds of students, taking the steps two at a time as he followed the corridor towards the sports hall – a large, proud building which stood adjacent to the main campus. Two large banners with the Konoha crest fluttered in the breeze on either side of the sports hall door, and Sasuke paused at the entrance to rummage in his pocket for the armoury key.

Behind him, the harsh cawing of crows resounded across the campus square. Two pigeons pecking the dirt nearby startled and flew up into the trees, their wings buffeting against the leaves as they settled on the flimsy branches.

Konoha campus was probably one of the greenest Universities in Japan, and with so many trees, outdoor facilities, ornamental campus squares and small parks, it wasn't difficult to see why. Even in the winter, the University boasted a huge range of winter sports programs and societies, ranging from the use of a private ice skating rink, to purpose built dry ski slopes over on the main sports campus. The university was proud of its sports societies and academic achievements in the sports – and of course their Kendo team, and Sasuke in particular, were starting to become the celebrities of the campus.

Sasuke fished the key from his pocket on its long lanyard and pushed open the heavy sports hall door, casting a glance at the notice board as he stepped into the building.

'Konoha Kendo team try outs! Sports hall centre at 1pm sharp – come and try out for the team!' Exclaimed one loud poster which somebody had tacked to the pinboard. Another was a hand written request for people to join the martial arts sessions held every Thursday evening, a club which Naruto was actually a member of. A small poster printed onto pink paper with clipart of a cherry blossom tree notified the reader of the new yoga society – 'perfect for reducing exam stress!' apparently. Sasuke knew that Sakura and Ino were members of the yoga team, and wondered if the classes had had any effect on their constant bickering and arguing. He highly doubted it.

The building was quiet and empty, and as he walked towards the armoury, Sasuke found himself wondering if any freshers would even turn up. Coaching the new students, some who would no doubt be painfully over-confident and would need putting firmly back in their place, would become boring very quickly – and even though it was only just gone lunchtime, Sasuke found himself longing for his quiet dorm room. He unlocked the door to the storage room and stepped in, breathing in the heavy smell of leather and bamboo. Dust motes floated in the air and were caught, as if suspended, in the beams of the light that spilled in through the high window. He checked over the hakama pants and the rack of bamboo shinai weapons, checking the leather ties which held the bamboo firmly in place for any looseness.

He found himself sighing as he heard the main door to the building shut loudly, followed the heavy footsteps of new students who chattered away eagerly and noisily as they made their way into the sports hall. He gathered up the hakama and selected a few of the best shinai swords in his arms, before making his way to the changing rooms where the students would be waiting.

Sasuke was grateful when, half way through the training session, Neji sauntered into the main hall, his helmet tucked securely under one arm. He pointed his shinai at one of the pairs of sparring students and brought it down hard on one shoulder. 'Keep your arm firm!' He yelled above the clattering of bamboo striking leather and metal, and the shouting cries of the students as they readied attacks. 'Backs straight! Feet forward, take up your stance _before_ attacking!'

Sasuke smiled. Neji was one of the most experienced kendo players on the team. Despite only being a second year, Neji was in fact a few years older than Sasuke, and his extra years of experience showed. He had been trained by his father, he had told Sasuke once, and used to practice daily with his cousins when he was growing up. His decision to study at University was only approved by his father under the rule that he partake in the kendo team, and being true to his word, Neji was already a firm favourite, with numerous individual winnings under his belt. Sasuke respected him, and appreciated his help in choosing the new recruits for the team.

'Ok!' Neji shouted, clapping his hands loudly together to get the attention of the 20 or so students who, relieved, stopped their sparring and started to remove their helmets to wipe away the sweat from their hairline. Their chests heaved beneath their armour plates, and many of their faces were flushed red.

'Good job everyone, for a bunch of freshers you're actually all surprising me. Now, as you all know, there are only five spaces available for this year's team, and myself and our team captain,' he gestured a hand over to Sasuke who took a few steps forward and bowed slightly to the class, who in turn all ducked their heads, whispering amongst themselves with adoration at Sasuke's presence, 'will decide exactly who will bring the most to the team. We're looking for talent, determination and strength – fail to show us these three traits and you will not be considered.' The class hushed, and Sasuke swore that he could almost hear the nervous gulping amongst them. Neji glanced over at his team leader.

'You will be sparring with Sasuke,' he said loudly, and Sasuke took the cue to start adjusting his armour, placing his heavy helmet firmly onto his head as he did so, feeling a strange sense of delight as the class shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. 'And let me say with upmost confidence that I _do not_ expect any of you to win! This is not about winning, this is about showing us what you've got!'

From across the room, the sports hall door opened, and another student, already dressed in the sparring gear and helmet, entered. A late addition, Sasuke thought to himself, as he watched the pupil cross the floor and join the back of the group.

Neji turned a wicked smile to the group. 'So, who's first?'

The huddle of students seemed to suddenly balk, and they all shuffled noisily backwards in an attempt to avoid what was obviously to be the humiliation of going first against one of the best kendo players in the University league. They jostled with each other as Neji and Sasuke smirked at one another, Sasuke shaking his head lightly under his helmet.

 _The first victim_ , Sasuke found himself thinking, as one unlucky student failed to clamour his way to the back of the group fast enough. Neji swung his own shinai firmly down onto the right shoulder of the unlucky guy, and the bamboo hit his leather plating with a resounding _thwack_. 'Fuck,' the guy muttered.

'You're up,' Neji said firmly, turning the young man around to face Sasuke who stood, ready, shinai outstretched to welcome the unfortunate opponent. The young man let out a shaky breath before pulling on his helmet, and taking up the shinai that Neji offered out to him. The group of remaining students crowded around excitedly, and for a brief moment Sasuke felt pity for the guy who stood nervously across from him, ready to face him. The feeling was only brief.

Three hits, and the opponent was easily defeated. Sasuke barely had to move his feet to get in the heavy blows from the bamboo sword, hitting the vital points on the boy's armour with ease.

'Next!' Neji shouted.

Around eight more students tried their luck, and with the exception of one tall student who managed to just strike Sasuke's shoulder in a forward attack, Sasuke remained untouched. Some, when gestured forward to show their skills, refused, shaking their heads and holding their hands up – knowing full well that maybe the kendo team wasn't quite for them. When no more students seemed willing to try, Neji turned to the group.

'Very well,' he said loudly, holstering his shinai and rolling his sleeves up. 'That's it for today's session – to those of you who we deem worthy of joining us, we will be in touch – '

Neji paused as a student suddenly stepped forward. The guy seemed slight, almost skinny, and Sasuke smirked beneath his helmet. _Might as well go out with a bang_ , he thought, envisioning defeating the brave student in less than three moves in front of the class. Hell, maybe he could get two strikes in quick enough and just call it a day. He respected this guy's bravery, but Sasuke had had enough for the day, and wanted to head back to his dorm. Kendo practice, even this late in the summer, was a hot business.

'I'll give it a shot,' the man said, voice muffled from beneath his helmet as he stepped forward confidently. Sasuke smirked and took up his stance, stretching out his shinai.

'Do your worst,' he replied. From beneath the shadows of the man's helmet, Sasuke could have sworn that for a moment his opponent seemed to be smiling.

Neji brought his hand down and the fight started.

'One strike!'

Sasuke stood, stunned, as the man's shinai clattered down hard onto the neck piece of his armour, making his helmet clatter noisly and setting his teeth on edge.

How had he…?

His opponent took a swift step backwards and readied his stance again. Sasuke blinked, casting a glance to Neji who seemed just as surprised as he was. Sasuke was never one to lose the very first point – or so quickly at that. Gripping his hands tightly around his shinai, Sasuke took up his stance again, trying to steady out his breathing and focus.

Hot anger had begun to prickle behind his eyes.

Neji brought his hand down again, and Sasuke watched closely as his challenger immediately shifted his weight onto his right foot. The movement was so slight, but his eyes caught the movement and he sprung to the right, bringing his shinai up directly in front of his face as the man attempted to swing at him from the side. Their shinai clashed together, and Sasuke felt the tremors race down the sword to its hilt. The man was tight against him now, and Sasuke hurried to move to get some space between them. He moved back, frustrated to find the man pushing him further, his shinai suddenly changing to the other side and coming down onto the side of his helmet. Sasuke pulled his head back, narrowly missing the sword as it swung heavily down. Seizing the opportunity, Sasuke quickly thrust forward, shouting with annoyance as his competitor dodged to the side, almost as if he had predicted Sasuke's movement.

The hot anger was spreading now, and Sasuke felt a bead of sweat settle in the nape of neck. Who the hell was this guy? And why was it taking so long to defeat him? His grip tightened and he clenched his jaw tight, watching the man's feet as he started to once again shift his weight, to the left this time. Straight away Sasuke leapt to the left, raising his weapon to defend the oncoming strike – when suddenly he was struck hard in the chest. The force was enough to knock him off his feet and push him backwards, and he was sent sprawling backwards onto the unforgiving hall floor. His head swung back and hit the floor with a crash, and he winced as his neck tightened unnaturally at the sudden impact. His shinai went flying across the floor, the bamboo clattering as it skidded to a stop at the feet of his opponent.

The rest of the students stood in silence, watching in disbelief, and Sasuke swore under his breath as he realised that Neji was looking down at him from above with a look of shock.

'Two strikes,' Neji said slowly, almost as if the very words tasted strange in his mouth as he spoke. He had a certain look upon his face, as if he hadn't quite understood what had just happened, and under any other circumstance Sasuke would've found it almost comical.

As the unknown competitor reached down and picked up Sasuke's shinai, everybody's eyes were on him. He walked steadily over to Sasuke, who had begun to try and pick himself up from the floor, pushing his upper body up with elbows as he tried to sit up. His head was still spinning from the impact, and he looked up angrily as the man came to stop just in front of him.

The tip of the shinai was pointed into his throat, covered by the heavy leather padding of his helmet.

'You need to train harder,' the man said, and Sasuke thought he could hear the smirk lining his lips as he spoke. 'I thought the great Uchiha would be more of a challenge,' he said softly, tilting Sasuke's head up with a tap under his helmet, 'but you're really just a bit of a disappointment, aren't you.'

It wasn't a question. The words stung, and Sasuke angrily slapped the shinai sword away from under his chin, roughly pulling off his helmet and ignoring how his dark hair was probably sticking up in sweaty spikes.

'Fuck you,' Sasuke spat angrily, pushing himself to his feet, ignoring the stares of the students who only a few minutes ago had been looking at him with admiration. He reached for his shinai, still in the other man's grip, who merely moved it out of reach. Sasuke gritted his teeth, trying hard to keep his cool in front of Neji, who seemed to be watching the situation unfold with a sense of curiosity. He felt like he was being toyed with.

Sasuke watched as the challenger began to remove his helmet with one hand. Long black hair spilled out from underneath the helmet, and Sasuke found himself doing a strange double-take. This guy… The car from earlier…? There was a moment of odd silence, before some of the students started to whisper restlessly.

'Itachi?' Neji said, suddenly stepping forward. 'It is Itachi, right? The transfer student from Akatsuki Daigaku?'

Sasuke blinked, watching as Neji stepped in front of him and stated shaking the guy's hand. A transfer student? It was obvious from looking at him that he wasn't a first year student – in fact he looked a few years older than any of them there, maybe a couple of years older than Sasuke himself. He angrily pushed his sweaty hair away from his eyes and winced as his neck flared hotly with pain. Neji seemed oddly excitable, an emotion which Sasuke didn't think he had ever seen his usually stern and sarcastic friend feel. He finished shaking Itachi's hand enthusiastically and turned to face Sasuke behind him, grinning as he did so.

'Itachi is the top kendo player at his University,' Neji said excitably, ignoring Sasuke's painful lack of interest. 'He's studying here for this year as part of our University's exchange program, but I didn't think you'd be here for another week at the most!' He said with a grin, turning his attention back towards Itachi, who simply shrugged his shoulders beneath his armour. 'I got here early,' he said simply.

 _Oh-fucking-yay_. Sasuke thought bitterly, sending a glare towards the man who, even as he was shaking Neji's hand and smiling politely to his words of admiration, seemed to be keeping his eyes firmly on him. His eyes were dark, almost black, and when Sasuke caught his gaze he felt an odd prickle of embarrassment flush red in his neck. Itachi smirked, tossing his shinai sword into the air and catching it by its point. He offered the hilt to Sasuke, who angrily swiped at it and holstered it firmly into his hakama without a word. All the while, Itachi was smiling.

'Ok everybody,' Neji said as he struggled to contain his excitement at the new guest, his loud voice seeming to break the tension which had settled in the room like a heavy cloud. The class started and looked towards him expectantly. Sasuke couldn't help but notice how the students were exchanging glances and fitfully looking towards Itachi out of the corner of their eyes. They all obviously knew who he was – so why had Sasuke not heard of him before?

'I'll be in touch with those of you who I believe to be an asset to this year's team – please keep an eye on the sports hall notice board for any updates to the team fixtures throughout the semester, and remember to show your support at our campus matches!' He clapped his hands loudly together twice, and the class burst into noise as they were dismissed.

'I can't believe Itachi is going to be studying here, and all the way from Akatsuki Daigaku too!'

'Do you think he'll make the team? I don't think anyone has ever beaten Sasuke Uchiha so easily in a practice match!'

'I wonder what classes Itachi is taking here? And why here of all places? I heard that Akatsuki Daigaku was the best university in southern Japan…'

Sasuke angrily tightened the leather holster around his shinai as he made his way towards the instructor changing rooms, cursing himself for letting his guard down and allowing such an easy defeat in front of everyone. Neji's voice resounded loudly above the buzz of chatter, and he shouted for the students to head to their changing rooms where they could leave their armour and weapons.

'Hey,' came a voice from behind him as he reached the changing room door. Sasuke gritted his teeth as Itachi stood behind him, pulling off his black training gloves. He had hardly broken a sweat, and Sasuke found himself wanting to wipe the own sweat off his brow, feeling suddenly oddly flustered and hot. 'I meant what I said about you needing to train harder, you know.' His voice was smooth and dark, oddly charismatic. Sasuke found himself watching as he ran a pale hand through his dark hair, pushing his bangs away from his face and tucking them behind one ear. His fingernails were painted a dark purple, he noticed. Weird.

'I train hard enough already,' Sasuke replied.

'Yeah,' Itachi laughed lightly, 'of course you do. Your footwork could do with a hell of a lot of work though,' he said, smiling. 'But of course you probably already know that.'

Sasuke resisted the urge to spit back an angry reply, wanting to tell him exactly where he could go and shove it – that he didn't need any of the man's advice, no matter how good he may have been back at his home University. He held his tongue though. Itachi was, of course, correct – he had been struggling with mastering his footwork for a while, and he knew that if he could learn a few more footwork techniques, it would really help him in his tournaments. Itachi's footwork had seemed flawless in their sparring, he found himself thinking, if only he could move as easily and gracefully as that.

'I can teach you.' Itachi said, and Sasuke found himself feeling startled, as if the man had read his mind. In the distance, Neji was busy ushering the last of the students out of the hall. Sunlight poured in through the skylights and reflected off the basketball hoops, sat high up on the far wall.

'I don't need your help,' Sasuke bit back. 'Besides, I'm guessing you're going to be on the team now anyway, so I'm sure we'll meet again.'

Itachi shook his head. 'No, I'm not joining the team, don't worry,' he said. 'I wouldn't dare dream of stealing your spotlight.'

He smirked and tossed his helmet to Sasuke.

'Put some ice on your neck,' he said with a smile, before he turned and headed towards the last of the leaving students, heading for the changing rooms. He shook Neji's hand again and they seemed to exchange some pleasantries before they left the hall together, the heavy doors banging shut behind them.

Sasuke stood there for a moment, still holding Itachi's helmet. His neck burned with fresh pain and he winced, reaching up a hand to push against the pain.

' _Fuck_ ,' he muttered under his breath. This year was going to be a long one.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was 2am, and Sasuke was wide awake. He lay on his bed facing the ceiling, skin hot against the duvet covers as the muggy night air hung over him. He had opened the window in an attempt to get some air into the room, but the night was still, and he had found little relief from the occasional breeze that fluttered the edges of his curtains. He sighed heavily and turned onto his side, kicking off the covers and pushing them to the end of the bed in a big clump of sweaty fabric.

He couldn't sleep.

He couldn't stop thinking about the kendo match either, and more frustratingly, the man who had so easily and effortlessly made him look like a fool in front of everybody.

 _His eyes were almost black_ , he thought to himself, as he reached out a hand to the wall and pressed his palm against it, feeling the cold plaster beneath his skin. He'd never seen eyes like that before.

'For fuck's sake, get a grip,' he muttered aloud as he pushed himself up in the bed, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath. His heartbeat pulsed in the corner of his throat.

'He wasn't anything _that_ special,' he said to himself. His friend, Neji, had of course protested otherwise when they met later that evening on the cool grass of the campus park to discuss the tryouts.

'What do you mean he won't join the team?' Neji had asked incredulously, as if thinking Sasuke was just pulling his leg.

'For god's sake Neji I don't know why he said it,' he had replied bitterly, trying to ignore his friend's obvious disappointment. 'He just said he wasn't… interested.' He decided to leave out the part about stealing his spotlight; something told him that Neji probably wouldn't want to hear that part. If anything, Sasuke realised as he grabbed at a fistful of grass and tugged it out of the earth, the comment had made him look like a spoiled brat.

'Weird,' Neji sighed, tapping his pen against his thigh as he sat cross-legged beside Sasuke. 'I wonder why he even showed up to the tryouts then. He would've been a great addition to take on Sunagakure... Did you know he's supposedly the best player Southern Japan have had for a generation? Rumour has it he was trained by some of the old masters, and even travelled all the way to Kyoto for his training. I saw a segment on NHK about him once, something about how he was the youngest player to ever achieve so many winnings…'

Sasuke tried to feign interest, and failed miserably. He opted instead for a silent nod, painfully aware that as Neji stared wistfully off into the distance, his silent agreement had gone unnoticed.

'You said he was here on transfer,' he said, watching as Neji blinked and was brought back down to earth. 'What's he studying? A martial arts program?'

'I'm not sure,' Neji replied, glancing down at the notebook in his lap as he drew a black line through one of the names of potential kendo players from the tryouts that morning. 'I only had the chance to chat to him briefly before he left, something about getting his dorm room sorted or something, but he didn't mention what he was studying here. He obviously doesn't have time to help out our kendo team though,' he added bitterly. Another name was crossed off the list.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. 'We don't need help,' he said firmly, trying to ignore the pain in his neck which seemed to ache in an obvious protest at the fact. 'We can easily beat Sunagakure, we've got a solid team this year.'

But Neji was back to looking wistfully into the distance, chewing on the end of his pen and twirling it between his lips. The sun was hot on their bare forearms, their jackets tossed haphazardly beside them. Birds flew high above their heads, flitting across the sky and settling in the high tree tops. Groups of students, some hugging their books to their chests as they threw their heads back in laughter, picked out their own spots on the grass and relaxed against tree trunks. The arrival of autumn would bring a stop to the relaxing few hours between lessons, and pupils would instead find themselves crouched over scratched desks in the library in the dim light, trying to pass their time. As if to herald the changing of the season, a breeze whipped across the campus park, rustling in Sasuke's hair and causing tiny bumps to raise on his exposed skin.

There was no sign of a breeze now, as Sasuke lay sweltering in his dark bedroom. He hated how his hair stuck to his forehead in damp spikes, making his skin itch. Frustrated, he pushed himself up in the bed and cast a cautious glance at his alarm clock. The digital numbers glowed green in the darkness, reading 2:34am. He swore lightly under his breath.

' _I could teach you,'_ Itachi had said to him.

His lips had been set in a smirk as he spoke, and remembering that look made a strange heat swell in the nape of his neck.

He remembered, oddly, how Itachi's nails had been painted.

'Damn it...' He muttered angrily, throwing himself back down onto the bed with a heavy thud. As hard as he tried, he couldn't push the thoughts of Itachi out of his head. His heart pulsed in his throat in time to the biting pain that still resided deep in the muscles of his neck.

' _Put some ice on your neck,'_ he had said. Sasuke had deliberately chosen to ignore the advice, and now found himself regretting it.

He wondered whether he would find himself regretting the offer of tuition, too.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, and attempted to try and slip into sleep. Willing the thoughts of Itachi to leave his head, and give him a few hours of peace.

* * *

The first lecture of the morning dragged slowly, and even as he wrote his notes, Sasuke found his entire being seemed to be moving at a torturous pace. His professor's words seemed unusually quiet and faraway, and despite him sitting fairly close to the front of the lecture hall, he found his eyes blurred tiredly as he tried to read the key points of the power point presentation, projected up onto the back wall. He glanced down at his notes, horrified to realise that in the space of almost two hours he had only managed to write the words 'Murakami,' 'Romance' and an odd squiggle in the top right hand corner of the page. A nervous glance to the young girl who sat at the desk to his right only caused him to worry further; she had at least two pages of writing already done and sitting proudly before her, and seemed to be starting on a third. Around him, other students were busily writing away, taking in their professor's key ideas and points as they jotted down the information they would use for their end-of-term essay.

Realising with a dawning sense of dread that he was sitting in the lecture unable to concentrate, and essentially just wasting his time, he hurriedly jotted down the essay title they had been given, wrote a quick note to check the power point for week 1 lecture in his literature class, and threw his notebook and pen into his bag. Ignoring the looks from the girl beside him as he pushed his chair back, he walked quietly past the other students and headed towards the exit door. The professor didn't even notice his absence; in a class of around a hundred students, he was sure he wouldn't exactly be missed.

He walked tiredly down the corridor which led away from the English and literature department, a building which, even by his second week, he could have walked blind-folded. He found himself following his tired feet towards the nearest vending machine, standing in the shadows just to the right of the building's entrance. Hardly anybody else was in sight. Konoha Daigaku was prized for its sports programs, in particular its martial arts courses, which explained the giant presence of the numerous sports facilities and hall in the centre of the campus. The other programs were still of exceptional quality, but had much smaller buildings and campus space – the literature, music and art buildings were commonly found on the edge of the campus, and the buildings themselves had a dated, old-fashioned charm about them which couldn't be found in the almost clinical modernity of the sports buildings. In particular, the literature teaching rooms had a vaguely dusty smell, a smell which reminded Sasuke of second hand bookstores, where shelves reached up into the ceiling, the space all crammed with heavy volumes of encyclopaedias and ancient maps of the world. He had visited a store just like that once with his mother, and could remember the way the dust motes had floated high in the air above his 7 year old head.

Stepping outside into the daylight, he spied the vending machine and headed towards it, tugging his bag up a little higher onto his shoulder. He fished in his pocket for a couple of hundred yen coins, and chose his usual Boss coffee can from the selection. The drink clattered away from the machine, and he eagerly reached for it, pulling the cap and feeling the metal can begin to warm to life in his palms, as if by magic. The sensation of the coffee heating itself slowly through the can never failed to bring a relieved smile to his lips. He breathed in the waft of coffee scented steam, letting his breath exhale as he felt the smell of the caffeine hit his tired body.

'I didn't realise coffee could be such a pleasurable experience,' came a voice from behind, and he spun around, surprised, wincing as the hot drink spilled over his hand, painfully hot. 'Ow!' He bit out between clenched teeth, wiping his hand on his jeans. Heavy droplets of coffee dripped from the edge of the can in his left hand and splattered one by one onto the pavement.

Itachi watched the spectacle with a bemused expression, raising one eyebrow as he saw Sasuke's cheeks begin to flush an angry shade of pink.

'Here,' Itachi said as he pushed Sasuke to one side and stepped forward to the vending machine. 'I'll get you another, Boss coffee right?'

Words of protest bubbled in Sasuke's throat, but before he could speak Itachi had already pushed the coins into the machine slot. A fresh can dropped to his feet with a loud clatter, and he presented it to Sasuke. The memory of Itachi offering him back his shinai sword after his embarrassing defeat flashed in his mind, and Sasuke found himself awkwardly declining.

'I'm good, thanks,' he said, gesturing to his half empty can as he waggled it in the air. 'There's still some left anyway.'

Itachi shrugged, popped the cap and took a gulp of the hot drink, tilting his head back gently as he did so.

Sasuke found himself painfully aware of every movement Itachi was making. The bobbing motion of his adam's apple as he swallowed the hot drink; the way that loose strands of dark hair had escaped his ponytail and hung delicately in front of his right ear; the obvious muscles of his arms which appeared at odds with his lithe frame. His dark eyelashes, strangely feminine, which rested against his cheekbones as he closed his eyes.

Those dark eyes opened as he swallowed, and caught Sasuke's gaze. He smiled as the younger man looked quickly away, directing his attention somewhere else. A crow had landed on the pavement next to them, and approached a nearby trash can fearlessly, ignoring their presence. Its wings caught the sunlight and shimmered a dark shade of midnight blue. It cawed loudly, watching them with a beady eye as it flew up onto the trash can lid and examined the container. Sasuke watched it silently.

'Did you put ice on that like I said?' Itachi asked, taking another sip from the warm can as he reached forward and brushed a fingertip across the blossoming bruise on Sasuke's neck. Sasuke winced at the contact and took a step back, embarrassed. The crow cawed again, regarding them with something akin to annoyance as it attempted to retrieve a piece of discarded bento box from inside the trash can.

'You're too proud for your own good,' he muttered, watching as Sasuke bristled at the comment.

'I'm not too proud,' he spat back, feeling his grip on his can of coffee tighten angrily. He knew how childish he sounded, arguing back as if he were being denied candy by a parent. He could have kicked himself. Itachi laughed gently under his breath, finishing his drink with one last gulp before he tossed it into the trash can, ignoring how the crow flapped its wings angrily and took off into the sky, choosing instead to find a quieter place where it could pick about the trash in peace.

'Prove it to me,' he said, almost sternly. His dark eyes regarded Sasuke closely, and he realised immediately that he was being challenged. Take up the offer of tuition and prove he could accept criticism, help and advice – or continue to act childishly, and be embarrassed at every opportunity.

'You're not the best at kendo,' Itachi continued, leaning back against the wall beside the vending machine. 'But you could be.'

Above them, soft summer clouds raced across the sky, occasionally drifting across the hot sun and casting shadows below. A faint breeze picked up, and Sasuke watched as a cluster of leaves were torn from branches of a nearby tree, swirling as they fell gently to the ground. No doubt one of the campus groundskeepers would be along shortly, rake in hand, ready to sweep away the first sign of the summer's end.

Itachi had been regarding him silently, arms folded across his chest as he lifted one foot behind him to push against the wall, awaiting a reply. He watched as Sasuke's attention was momentarily distracted by the falling leaves, noticing how under his thin t-shirt with a grungy faded band logo, his chest seemed to hitch slightly. The moment passed as quickly as it had come.

'When do you want to train?' Sasuke said, keeping his voice low as if they were conducting a shady under-hand deal, rather than merely discussing kendo practice. As odd as it seemed, he didn't want anybody to know that he was accepting help from the new guy on campus. Itachi smiled.

'How about tomorrow evening? Say, eight by the fountain? There aren't any sports clubs in the hall so we can practice there.'

Sasuke found himself nodding numbly, shouldering his bag as he also threw his empty can, sticky with spilt coffee, into the trash. He checked his watch and realised with a pang of guilt that he had already missed the start of his second lecture of the day. Kakashi would start to question his absence if he made it a regular thing so close to the start of a new semester, and when he had to commit so much time to his kendo, he really didn't need any professors breathing down his back about lessening his practice time. He raised his head, meeting Itachi's eyes as he pulled his jacket sleeve down over his watch.

'I've got to get going,' he said as he moved to head back towards the literature building. Raising a hand in an awkward sort of goodbye as he took a hold of the metal railing, he swung his legs forward and jumped down the steps in one go. He landed with his knees bent and pushed a hand through his spiked hair, out of his eyes. He glanced back up to the top of the stairs where Itachi stood, watching him. Strands of dark hair had come loose from his ponytail, and as the wind picked up slightly, Sasuke found himself focusing oddly on the way that those strands stuck to the corner of the man's mouth, before thin fingers moved them away and back safely behind one ear.

'Tomorrow at eight.' Itachi called after him, and Sasuke replied with another raised hand, gesturing that he had heard him, as he began the walk back to his lecture room. As he walked, he was aware of the way that Itachi's eyes were burning holes into his back.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and as Sasuke waited by the university entrance at the end of the day, he found himself checking his watch to clarify that the time definitely was 5pm. He was waiting for Naruto; seeing as they shared rooms next to each other in the same dormitory block, they often met to walk the short journey back to their rooms together. Naruto was enrolled in the martial arts program at Konoha Daigaku, a program which focused on the physical practices of Judo and Taekwondo, as well as more essay based subjects such as the history of martial arts. Naruto had breezed through the physical aspects of his course in the first year, but the studies on history and research methods always caused him trouble. Sitting down quietly in the library or at his desk in his bedroom wasn't exactly Naruto's style – and he was much happier throwing punches and practicing his throws in the on-campus gym and sports hall.

As if on cue, the blond haired man came racing around the corner, textbook in hand as he waved frantically in Sasuke's direction, grinning as he caught his friend's eyes.

'Yo Sasuke! How's it going?' He yelled, slowing to a jog as he approached his friend, pushing past other groups of students as they headed home to their dorms and student houses. The late summer sun was still fairly high in the sky; it would be a good few more hours until sunset.

'Good,' Sasuke replied, as he dodged Naruto's friendly punch, catching the fist aimed at his shoulder and twisting it painfully to one side. He smiled as Naruto laughed out before he began yelping in pain.

'Alright alright! Damn it…' He laughed under his breath, wincing as Sasuke released his twisted arm, stepping backwards and cradling his fist as he pouted. 'You don't play fair Sasuke,' he muttered, and yet his blue eyes sparkled with a smile.

'You just need to change up your technique,' Sasuke said lightly with a shrug of his shoulders, throwing his hands into his jeans pockets. He glanced at the heavy textbook in his friend's left hand. _A brief history of martial arts and Buddhism,_ the title on the cover read above an old black and white photo of a Buddha statue. The cover was worn and faded, and the spine was creased. Sasuke found himself always noticing the tiny details on books - the one page that had been dog-eared by the reader before; the creased spine broken by heavy hands.

'How's the studying going?' He asked, nodding his head to the book that was propped up on Naruto's hip. Naruto's pale jeans were ripped at the knees, and his orange baseball shirt was tucked roughly into the front of them. His converse was worn and scuffed, and as he stood there, he unconsciously kicked one toe into the dirt, scuffing them further. It was an odd habit that Naruto had, one that Sasuke had almost always been aware of, but one which his friend seemed completely oblivious to. A cloud of dirt dust floated up briefly as he kicked his toe into the floor.

'Haha, yeah, it's um… going well?' Naruto smiled nervously, lying through his teeth. 'But what about you,' he quickly said, as Sasuke got to his feet off the old metal bench and they headed out of the campus towards their dorm. 'I heard from Ino that you left first lecture early? Everything alright?'

Sasuke could tell from the tone of his friend's voice that he was concerned. He knew his actions had been out of character, that since meeting the smug Itachi he had been more distracted and agitated than usual. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and blinked into the low sunshine as they walked, raising his shoulders and shrugging again. 'I had stomach ache,' he said simply, ignoring how Naruto was watching him closely, his blue eyes seeing straight through his blatant lie. He prayed he wouldn't push the issue, and thankfully Naruto just rolled his eyes, exasperated.

'Whatever dude,' he sighed, throwing his textbook into the air and letting it spin over and over upwards in a huge arc. He caught the book on its spiralling descent. 'I hope everything's alright though. Neji mentioned at lunch about how you'd met Itachi – he's one of the new transfer students right?'

Sasuke felt the residing pain in his neck flare up at the mention of the man's name.

'Yeah,' he muttered, examining his fingernails on one hand and picking at a sore bit of skin on his thumbnail. He remembered how Itachi's nails were painted a dark purple. 'He showed up at the kendo tryouts,' _and proceeded to beat the shit out of me,_ he almost added. 'For some reason he refused to join the team, despite Neji's protests. Did he still seem upset?'

Naruto grinned and nodded. 'Oh yeah, he wouldn't leave off about it!' He laughed lightly, and Sasuke could just picture how Neji would have moped at lunchtime, picking at his food with his chopsticks as if broken hearted. 'He kept going on about how he might try and catch Itachi sometime around the campus – try and persuade him to join the team. Apparently he's quite elusive – none of us lot have seen him around anyway.'

Sasuke swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. Elusive? He found that rather hard to believe – if anything, Itachi seemed to be following him around. He looked up from the gravelled path way, almost expecting the man to be up ahead, leaning casually against one of the trees which lined the boulevard in the late afternoon sun.

Thankfully, Itachi was nowhere to be seen, and Sasuke found himself feeling relieved.

'Maybe he's busy with his studies here.'

'Yeah I guess, but what does he even study? Neji had thought he had enrolled on the martial arts program, but he's not in any of my classes,' Naruto said thoughtfully. 'He isn't in any of your lectures either?'

Sasuke shook his head. 'I don't think literature studies would have been his style,' he said carefully, trying to envision the smirking bastard pouring over a book, or studying in the library. He couldn't quite picture it, and he remained at a loss as to what it was that Itachi was actually _doing_ here at Konoha Daigaku.

'Who cares anyway,' he muttered, as they followed the path round the right, winding through the trees as their dorm building began to emerge from the far end of the campus grounds. 'I doubt we'll see much of him. If he's come from Akatsuki Daigaku of all places, he's bound to be studying for the highest grades possible. He probably won't even leave his dorm room.'

Naruto made a noise of approval, and he ran a hand through his short blond hair which stuck up from his head in odd spiky tufts. As a kid he'd often tried to grow his hair out and tame it with a brush, but he had quickly learned that any interference only made his hair all the more unruly.

Within a few minutes, they had reached their dorm building – a fairly small, unobtrusive old building, nestled in amongst a group of shady trees near the main road which edged around the university. For a university dorm building it was fairly small – only standing at six stories high, with roughly fifteen rooms on each floor. Naruto and Sasuke's rooms were directly next to each other on the fourth floor, and from their rooms they shared a decent view of the campus and parks which surrounded them. There was a communal bathroom and showers on each floor, which the students often found themselves scrambling to use first in the mornings, and a large meeting area on the ground floor which had tables, chairs, big plush sofas, a battered pool table and two large vending machines which glowed eerily at night.

The dorm block was named Shinobi, and the two boys whipped out their student I.D cards as they approached the big main door, swiping their cards and listening for the beep before they pushed the heavy door open.

'Want to head to the ramen bar downtown this evening?' Naruto asked, as he threw his rucksack down onto one of the sofas, unzipping it and shoving the old textbook inside with a look of relief.

'No it's alright, I've got to catch up on the notes I missed this morning so I'll probably just grab a cup noodle.'

Naruto cast a sideways glance to his friend who was already heading towards the main flight of stairs as he spoke. Sasuke seemed odd, a bit out of it, as if he were coming down with a bad cold or fever. The previous winter, he'd caught a fever which had left him in bed for most of the week, sweating furiously through his bed sheets despite the heavy snow which had rendered the majority of the campus inaccessible. Where most of their friends and fellow students had been wrapped in layers of warm jumpers, heavy scarves and plush winter coats, Sasuke couldn't even bear the feeling of a t-shirt on his hot skin. Naruto had sat with him, wringing out ice-cold flannels and wiping his sweat from his black hair as he mumbled deliriously. His normally muscular body had become thin and bony, and Naruto had found himself wanting to email Sasuke's mother back in Tokyo, but couldn't bring himself to after Sasuke's furious threats that he would kill him if he dared tell his mother anything. He knew that Sasuke cared deeply about his mother, more so than he ever let on to anyone, and he naturally hadn't wanted her to hear of his bad health in case it worried her.

Naruto had met Sasuke's mother only a handful of times throughout their childhood; the Uchiha family had lived in the bustling maze of central Tokyo, and were known for keeping very much to themselves. The young Uchiha strongly resembled his mother Mikoto, and even in her older years where her dark hair was becoming grey and the skin on her hands was beginning to crease, she still shared a strong resemblance to her son. The way she tilted her head gently to one side when thinking, or the way she tightened her jaw when she was angry.

Today, though, Sasuke just seemed… off. Naruto had heard from Neji about the kendo incident, and had decided not to ask his sullen friend about it. Sasuke was a very proud guy, and no doubt the defeat had left his pride severely wounded. He would have just expected Sasuke to shrug it off though and carry on with his practicing – not to have taken it so much to heart as he seemed to have done. He wondered if something else was bothering him, but decided not to press it.

He watched as Sasuke headed up the staircase at the end of the common room, and disappeared out of sight without a word.

* * *

Two hours later, and Sasuke found himself sitting at his desk in his bedroom, trying to ignore the heavy metal music which thumped down through the ceiling from the room above. Laughter resounded from down the corridor, and he pushed the thought of getting the train to catch up with Naruto and his friends for ramen firmly out of his head. He chewed on the end of his pen as he looked down at the dismal amount of notes he had taken on the book he was meant to read and study. Murakami's work had always inspired Sasuke; being an avid reader and lover of literature, he had known from high school that he had wanted to pursue this passion further, and he could remember how thrilled he had felt when Murakami's name appeared on his second year reading list. Sitting on the desk in front of him was a pile of Murakami's novels, unopened, their spines and pages still perfectly fresh and new. He had researched online and found a few articles on the author and his writing style, but his own notes remained sparse.

He drummed the pen onto his notebook, absentmindedly.

 _Discuss the use of romance throughout a chosen selection of Murakami's novels_ , his essay title read, handwritten at the top of his notebook's first page. He had scribbled a rough bubble shape around the title, and had found himself drawing over and over the lines until the ink had bled through onto the page below.

Romance, he had decided quite early on in his life, was not entirely Sasuke's 'thing.' Any interactions he had had with girls, and there had been a fair few, had always been short and sweet – a date or two, possibly a brief visit to a girl's room, an action which always sparked a mixture of jealousy and disgust from his best friend. He had known for a long time that Naruto had been crushing on Sakura, one of their oldest friends from back in high school who had spent most of her weekends in Harajuku, dying her shoulder-length hair pastel pink and shopping the recent fashion trends. Even at university, she had stuck with her pink hair, an odd colour choice which Sasuke could never really understand. He never knew why people wanted so desperately to stand out from the crowd. Regardless, Naruto seemed to only have eyes for her, but was always rebuffed and ignored. Sasuke wished he would turn his attention to finding somebody else, but nothing could dissuade him.

Sasuke's most recent date had ended sourly; maybe it was the way he had fucked the pretty girl after their night in the tiny bars that lined the town's alleyways before leaving quickly, ignoring her protests to stay as he made his swift exit. He had been aware of her throwing a heavy high heeled shoe at his back as he quickly closed her door on her, hearing the thump of the shoe colliding with the wooden door. He hadn't heard from her again, and was relieved that he didn't. He knew he must have been gaining a reputation for his liaisons with girls – but part of him just didn't care. He knew that his heart wasn't truly in dating these girls - especially when he could never bring himself to stay the night. He had wondered about trying to hook up with guys instead, but the thought didn't really appeal to him. He had sexual urges like everybody,and in all fairness he did really enjoy sex, but the idea of falling in love with someone seemed alien to him. He couldn't imagine, female or otherwise, spending the night with his partner, feeling them, touching their skin and loving every piece of them.

Romance was, in Sasuke's eyes, dead and buried. Sadly he knew that his very cynical views on the subject would only hinder him with his essay – and he closed his eyes, rubbing at his right temple with his fingertips to ease the tension there. He had three classes tomorrow, and at lunch he had agreed to meet with Neji to meet the new members of the kendo team, to show them the basics of the armour and discuss with them their tournament schedule. And of course, at eight o'clock he was due to see Itachi.

He buried his head in his hands and sighed, feeling drained. He didn't know how much of Itachi's sarcasm and biting comments he could take – and he found himself dreading their meeting. Still, he thought to himself, as he hit the switch on his desk lamp and decided to call it a night, he would hopefully get the chance to kick Itachi's smug ass. The idea of standing over the taller man, sprawled on the floor in defeat under his shinai, brought a smile to his lips, and he headed to bed with a new found determination to prove himself as a damned good kendo player.

* * *

That heated determination faded quickly as Sasuke approached Itachi, sitting on the bench below the fountain at eight o'clock the next day.

The sun was setting, and the air was cool. The splashing sound of the fountain seemed to echo across the campus square. Only a few students hung about on the main steps of the entrance building, most had already headed home or caught the train into town for dinner and drinks. The large library stood across from them, and the hundreds of windows glowed with orange light from within.

'You made it,' Itachi said, looking up from his phone as Sasuke approached him, hands firmly shoved in his pockets. Sasuke couldn't help but notice how the older man seemed pleased, almost surprised.

'You didn't think I'd show?' He asked, watching as Itachi closed his flip phone and tucked it into his jacket pocket. It was a leather jacket, Sasuke noticed, and seemed buttery soft, a look which only the finest leather possessed.

'Let's just say I thought your pride would have gotten the better of you,' he said, standing up and grabbing his satchel tucked securely under the bench beneath him.

Hidden within his pockets, Sasuke clenched his fists tightly. He decided to ignore the remark, knowing Itachi was trying to get a rise out of him, and tried to push down his anger.

'Where do you want to practice then? Sports hall?'

Itachi nodded, threading his arm through his satchel strap and letting is swing heavy against his side. He wore smart trousers and brogues, and Sasuke found himself feeling slightly self-conscious in his grungy band shirt and faded jeans. Itachi was already heading towards the sports hall, and Sasuke followed behind him, feeling strangely like a dog following his master. He quickened his pace and moved up beside him.

It was getting late, and on the short journey to the sports hall they only passed a handful of other students. Some of them were tugging their jackets around them, trying to ignore the cool evening air nipping at their skin.

Together they approached the big sports hall doors, and Sasuke fumbled for his armoury key as Itachi pushed the door open and stepped inside.

'Bring two shinai,' Itachi said, slinging his bag down onto the bench at the entrance. 'Forget the helmets and any other armour.'

Sasuke threw him an odd look, raising his eyebrow.

'No helmets or armour? Do you want to get hurt or something?' Sasuke asked, unlocking the armoury door and hitting the light switch, flooding the storage room with dusty, dim light. He grabbed two shinai as requested, checking the bamboo and the handle out of habit. The weapons had a hefty weight to them, and all the ties and bindings were secure.

Itachi moved up behind him, his figure in the doorway casting a dark shadow into the room. He reached out for the weapon, and Sasuke handed him one silently.

'I won't be the one getting hurt,' he said matter-of-factly, smirking. Before Sasuke had chance to come up with a similarly biting reply, Itachi had begun heading to the main hall. He had kicked off shoes and walked bare foot, his footsteps hardly making any sound throughout the long corridor.

'Fuck,' Sasuke muttered, letting the armoury door swing shut as he flicked the light switch, plunging the cold room into darkness. He toed off his own shoes and, taking a firm hold of his heavy weapon, he jogged to catch up to his unconventional mentor who was disappearing out of sight.

* * *

'Focus on your feet,' Itachi had said, just before he swung his shinai heavily into Sasuke's raised forearm with a painful _thwack_. Sasuke shouted out, feeling his arm buckle the wrong way just above his elbow, stumbling backwards away from the offending weapon ready to strike him again.

'Fuck, just wait a minute!'

Itachi's shinai swung and struck him heavily in his side, winding him and silencing his shouts of protest as he buckled forward, dropping his weapon as he fell to the floor. Two drops of sweat fell from his forehead onto the floor, and he was aware of a third drop racing down the back of his neck.

' _Fuck_ ,' he managed to bite out between gritted teeth. His side smarted, throbbing painfully along with his drumming heartbeat.

'Your opponent won't 'wait a minute' for you,' Itachi said calmly from above, not even casting Sasuke a glance as he instead regarded the weapon in his hands, turning it carefully and admiring the structure of the bamboo blade.

'Get up.'

Sasuke painfully pushed himself up to his feet, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he glared at his opponent. They had been practicing for the best part of an hour, and yet Itachi had barely broken a sweat. Infuriated, he took a hold of his weapon, ignoring how heavy it was feeling now after so much sparring, and readied his stance.

He had barely thought of his first move when Itachi sidestepped suddenly to the right, and the shinai crashed down onto Sasuke's shoulder.

'Fucking hell, stop playing unfair!' He shouted angrily, resisting the urge to throw a punch at the smug bastard's face, looking down at him with a smirk.

'I'm not playing unfair.' His voice was frustratingly calm and yet dangerous, as if he were talking to a stubborn child. 'If you had just taken a second to breathe, you would have been able to predict my movements easily. You're thinking too much of everything – your movements, _my_ movements, the weight of your weapon, the eyes on you. You need to focus on one thing at a time. Stop relying on only your sight.'

Sasuke breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath as he rolled his shoulder, glad to feel that the joint was working properly and smoothly. He took a nervous step back when Itachi holstered his weapon and advanced towards him, reaching in his pocket for something as he moved.

'Hey, wait– what are you-'

'Just shut up,' Itachi bit back suddenly, making Sasuke freeze in his steps at the sudden chill in his voice. From his pocket he had pulled a wrap of bandage, usually worn on a kendo players' hand to stop rubbing from the painful wooden hilt of the weapon during competitions. Sasuke watched, feeling a dawning realisation as Itachi began to unravel the bandage and approach him.

'I don't think this is a good idea,' Sasuke muttered, swallowing down a tight lump which was beginning to form in the base of his throat. Itachi ignored him, and started pulling the bandage tightly over his eyes.

Two wraps of the bandage around his head, and Sasuke was in darkness. He gripped his shinai tightly as Itachi knotted the length of bandage behind his head, and as he leaned forward to secure it, Sasuke realised he could smell warm skin and cologne. His lips felt dry, and he nervously chewed at the corner of his mouth.

'If we nullify your sense of sight,' Itachi said from somewhere beside him, your other senses will be allowed to come forward. You need to listen to my movements, feel the shift of weight on the floorboards as I move.' As he spoke, Sasuke was aware that he had moved to stand before him. He had no idea what distance there was between them, and he nervously raised his shinai to ready his first attack. He felt vulnerable, especially without the heavy reassuring weight of armour and helmet – but blocking out his sight seemed plain dangerous.

He swore loudly as Itachi's weapon collided with his hip, stinging sharply as the bamboo blade hit his bone. The shock reverberated through his body and he gritted his teeth in pain.

'Focus.'

Trying to concentrate, Sasuke took in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly, forcing his heart rate to slow as he tried to relax his grip on the hilt. His knuckles, painfully white, loosened, and allowed the blood to flow to his fingertips.

He listened to the silence until his ears began to ring, resonating a high-pitch buzzing deep in his eardrums. From his right he heard the faintest movement of a step being taken, and the skin on his forearms prickled. He could almost feel each individual hair lifting away from his flesh.

Moving as if on automatic, he lifted his weapon up, hitting Itachi's descending shinai with a brutal thud. He moved quickly to the side and brought the block down, shifting his weight and thrusting to the side blindly. His shinai hit yielding flesh with an impact which shuddered up the blade, and he rushed to push up the makeshift blindfold.

Bending over at the waist, Itachi was holding his side and smiling.

'See?' He said, rubbing just above his hip and wincing as he lifed his shirt to examine the blossoming red mark, almost admiringly. 'If you stop thinking about a hundred things at once, you can actually get in a pretty damn good strike.'

'I'm sorry,' Sasuke began hesitantly as he stepped forward, watching as Itachi's hip began to smart an angry red. The sight of the flushed skin was oddly pleasing, and Sasuke couldn't help but notice that Itachi's abs were taught and muscular, and his skin was eerily pale. He wondered if Itachi went outside much.

As if noticing his gaze, Itachi let his shirt drop back down.

'Don't apologise,' he said gently, lips set in a smirk as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them as he placed a hand on Sasuke's neck.

'I guess you could say we're even now.'

He pushed gently down on the bruise on Sasuke's neck, making him wince at the dull ache which spread through his skin. Having Itachi so close meant he could smell the fading cologne on his skin once again, and his mouth went strangely dry and hot. He pushed Itachi's hand away.

'I'll go and put the shinai away,' he said quickly, trying to ignore the way the man was smiling at him, dark eyes watching him closely. He took the weapon offered to him and made his way to the armoury, feigning ignorance to the way his cheeks were prickling with heat. He found himself wondering why Itachi, of all people, seemed to draw every possible emotion out of him so effortlessly; anger, embarrassment, stubbornness, nervousness. No other person, not even friends who had known him for years, had ever brought such a range of emotions out of him – and Itachi was still almost a complete stranger. Apart from knowing that he had transferred from Akatsuki Daigaku, Sasuke realised that he still didn't know anything about him. He placed the weapons back into their holsters and fastened them tightly, securing them to the rack on the armoury wall with a quickness that suggested he had done the task many times before. He took a breather in the dark room, wiping away the sweat on his forehead as he breathed in the smell of the armoury – dust and leather and metal.

As he locked the door behind him, he realised that the makeshift blindfold, Itachi's hand bandage, was balled up in his jeans pocket. He fished it out and began rolling it up, heading down the empty corridor towards the exit doors, spying Itachi already waiting for him outside. He was lighting a cigarette, cupping his hands around the flame as he bit the cigarette between his lips. The flame sparked once, twice, three times, before the cigarette caught a hold and began to burn. He watched as Itachi took a breath and breathed out through his nose, the smoke wafting into the dark night air.

In the distance, the campus clock tower rang out ten heavy chimes.

Sasuke toed on his shoes, shoving his heels down roughly to avoid untying the laces. In the back of his mind he heard his mother's angry words; she always hated him breaking the backs of his shoes, and would force him to take them off and retie them if she ever caught him.

He threw on his jacket, pushing open the main doors as he stepped outside. He shivered at the cold night air, feeling wishful that the air couldn't have been as mild the other night. The weight of autumn hung in the air, and Sasuke noticed that around them, fallen leaves had collected in small clusters. Summer was nearly over, and the breeze that picked up around them seemed to echo his thoughts.

He approached Itachi, offering out his bandage. 'Here, I forgot to give you this back,' he said, gesturing to the bandage. Itachi took a drag on the cigarette, causing a brief orange light to glow between his lips. He pocketed it, exhaling smoke.

'I didn't know you smoked,' Sasuke found himself saying aloud, watching the grey tendrils spiral upwards into the air. A crescent moon hung above them like a wonky chesire-cat smile.

Itachi shrugged. He was wearing his leather jacket, and it creased softly above his shoulders. 'Only occasionally,' he said, tilting his head back to blow a thin stream into the air. He was deliberately ignoring Sasuke's look of disapproval.

'It stinks,' Sasuke muttered, wafting at the air in front of him as he shuffled from foot to foot. Itachi grinned and blew a smoke ring at him.

'You sound like my mother,' he said, smiling as Sasuke coughed lightly. White hot ash crumbled from the end of the cigarette and fell lightly to the floor, and Itachi trod down on them with one foot, rubbing them into the ground.

Sasuke shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, shaking out a shiver which coursed up his body. 'Do you come from a big family?'

'No, I moved out when I was quite young and spent time living with my uncle. My mother keeps in touch every now and then but I don't see her often, or my father for that matter,' he said, examining the length of the stubby cigarette smoking steadily between his fingertips. 'Although, I spent a few years in Kyoto before deciding to focus on my studies, so I was more than used to living alone.'

He paused, taking a last breath from the dying cigarette before flicking it to the floor, crushing it with his heel. He held the breath, relishing in the last rush of nicotine before he gently exhaled.

'What about you?' He asked. 'Big family?'

Sasuke shook his head. 'I lived with my mother before moving here to study, but it's always just been the two of us for as long as I can remember. Naruto is like my brother though,' he added, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder, 'we've been friends since we were little.'

Itachi was listening intently, Sasuke realised; his dark eyes were focusing on his mouth as he spoke.

'What are you studying, a sports program I'm guessing?' Itachi asked, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of long black hair behind his ear.

'Literature.'

'I never would have guessed,' Itachi replied, and Sasuke was relieved to note that there was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. Itachi genuinely seemed interested and surprised, and he leaned forward slightly, head tilting to the right, as if intrigued.

'I love reading,' Sasuke said quickly, feeling oddly as though he had to justify his program choice. 'I always have. Horror, sci-fi, fantasy, epics – anything really. It's just great to get caught up in somebody else's world, you know?' He felt his cheeks flushing as he realised he was beginning to ramble. He cleared his throat nervously.

'Anyway, what about you? Neji said you were brilliant at kendo, are you here to study the program?'

Itachi folded his arms, and Sasuke was acutely aware of the way the soft leather whispered as he moved. Itachi was smiling at him, his dark eyes catching the moonlight and glinting for a brief moment.

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,' he said. Curiosity piqued, Sasuke's brow furrowed.

'Try me.'

He watched as Itachi pushed up from the wall, unfolding his arms and grabbing his bag from the floor beside him.

'Meet me by the new dorm block tomorrow lunchtime and I'll show you, if you'd like. We can even make this interesting – if you can guess what I'm studying correctly, I'll teach you another kendo technique to add to your roster.'

Sasuke felt his heart quicken at the thought of a challenge. Maybe it was the inner child in him, but the prospect of a challenge, fight, contest or dare, never failed to entice him. It was what had made him such a good kendo player after all. He followed quickly as Itachi began walking away from the sports building, smart shoes clicking gently on the pavement illuminated by the campus street lights.

'And if I don't guess correctly?'

Itachi turned to face him, and his dark hair whipped in front of his eyes. He pushed them aside with a pale hand, and caught Sasuke's gaze.

'You let me have your cell-phone number.'

Sasuke almost choked. Itachi wanted his… his number? Wasn't that a bit personal? He laughed nervously, walking past the older man whose eyes followed him like a hawk.

'Come on, be serious,' he laughed. 'I mean, you can't honestly mean –' He stopped in his tracks as Itachi suddenly reached out from behind and grabbed his forearm, holding him tightly.

'I am being serious,' he said. Sasuke glanced down at the hand holding him, noting again Itachi's dark painted nails, curled tightly around his arm. He could feel the strength beneath that hand, and wondered briefly what that hand would feel like against his bare skin, holding him in place. The thought came quickly and unexpectedly, and he found himself balking at the idea.

_What the hell?_

He angrily tugged his arm, trying to move away, but Itachi held firm and wouldn't release him.

'Do you honestly think I'd be spending my time with you if I didn't want to know you more?' Itachi asked, almost bitterly, and Sasuke found himself wincing at the tone.

'I don't joke around,' he said.

'Well what would I know?' Sasuke bit back, angry at the way his body was starting to heat up and burn furiously. 'I don't even know you!'

Itachi let him go then, almost as if he had received an electric shock. Sasuke found that with the bond between them broken, he could calm himself down a little. He glanced around, wondering if any late night purveyors of the library might have seen them or heard them, but there was nobody in sight. Only a few lights illuminated the windows of the library building, and the students inside seemed to be keeping to their desks.

'Guess correctly,' Itachi said, turning smartly on his heel and walking off towards the far end of the campus, where the main dormitories lay, 'and you won't need to worry yourself with knowing me.'

He walked off, not turning to look back even once, and soon disappeared out of sight.

'What the hell,' Sasuke cursed, biting back the chill of the night air as he angrily strode in the opposite direction. He realised with a dawning sense of dread that he had no _idea_ what Itachi would most likely be studying.

In his bag, as if to confirm his mounting sense of dread, his phone bleeped a weary low-battery sound.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Itachi was on the fountain's edge, waiting for him. Sasuke could see him sitting there amongst the crowd of students heading for lunch, and was slightly concerned at the way his heart gave a curious thud as he headed down the steps towards him. He pushed the feeling to one side and shouldered his bag with one hand, trying to ignore the creeping sensation of butterflies in his stomach. He didn't know why he felt nervous and jumpy around the guy, but it annoyed the hell out of him.

As he neared, he could see that Itachi was wearing a dark button-up shirt, the sleeves pushed up above his elbows and rolled into place there. His dark jeans were faded on the knees, and under one arm he had his bunched up leather jacket. He was glancing down at the phone in his hands, fingers moving frantically as if he were replying to an email or message, staring down through a pair of dark sunglasses.

'Hey.'

Itachi looked up, and in the reflective metallic lenses of the sunglasses, Sasuke caught eyes with his own reflection, distorted, as if he were looking into a puddle of glistening motor oil. The glasses were pushed up and onto his head, and the reflection was lost.

'Hey yourself,' he said, lips turning up into a smile. Sasuke felt heat begin to build in his stomach, aware of how Itachi's eyes were on him with a strange intensity. He felt self-conscious, and shuffled his converse into the gravelly dirt.

Itachi pocketed his phone into his jeans, folding his legs and regarding Sasuke was a curious look. The sunglasses atop his head caught the sunlight and sparkled. 'So? What's your guess? You can have two, if you'd like.'

Sasuke did in fact have two ideas, two ideas which he thought were sound and one of which was probably correct. He had, annoyingly, spent all night thinking over what Itachi might have been studying at Konoha Daigaku, and had even asked his friends over breakfast in the canteen about it.

' _I've got no idea,'_ Naruto had muttered, barely even listening as he grabbed a hot coffee from the drinks counter and a fistful of sugar sachets. Neji hadn't any ideas either. Shikamaru had wondered if it was one of the sciences, but for some reason Sasuke couldn't envision Itachi in a lab or studying pharmaceuticals. They had pondered over the question for the entirety of breakfast, but were none the wiser by the time they split up and headed to their separate lectures.

It was only during the morning literature class that Sasuke had had an epiphany of sorts, and the answer had seemed clear to him. Law. It had to be – what else would suit such a smirking bastard who seemed to think he was God's gift? The only other idea that came to him was that he was maybe studying business, but the programs at Konoha Daigaku were limited for business studies, so it wouldn't have made sense for him to transfer here. Besides, law just seemed to make sense – it seemed to suit him. An image of Itachi wearing a tailored suit, polished black shoes and wearing his hair tied tightly back came to him unexpectedly, and he drew a frantic scribble onto his note page to try and distract himself. The girl sitting beside him looked at him worryingly, casting her eyes down at his doodling. She shifted slightly to one side, trying to distance herself from him. Sasuke had ignored her.

Now, Itachi was looking at him, waiting. The fountain splashed heavily down behind them, and Sasuke noticed a few fallen leaves were caught in the tumble of water, pushed down beneath the water's glistening surface.

'Yeah, I've got an idea or two,' he said, approaching Itachi's side and leaning against the cool stone of the fountain. 'You're studying law, right?'

Itachi shook his head with a smile, and Sasuke felt his stomach drop painfully.

'One more guess,' he said, and held up one thin finger, smiling at the look of disbelief on Sasuke's face.

'Well then it's business, it's got to be,' Sasuke said desperately, but even as he spoke he felt doubtful. He watched as Itachi gave a sigh and pushed himself down from the wall, his smart shoes kicking up dust as he landed effortlessly. He gestured for Sasuke to follow him as he slung his cross-body bag across his chest, and bundled his jacket up in one hand.

Sasuke could have kicked himself. He was so convinced that Itachi studied law, or maybe even business, that he couldn't even begin to fathom where Itachi was taking him.

'They were good guesses,' Itachi said from a few steps in front of him, turning back to glance at the boy behind him. 'To be fair, my parents always did want me to go into law.'

Sasuke hurried to catch up a little, aware of the way that students on the path around them were looking at Itachi, stepping out of his way as he walked. He did look different, with his long dark hair and cool clothes, he seemed in a way almost foreign. Sasuke realised with a mild horror that he was looking at Itachi too, and pulled his eyes away to look at the dirt of the path.

'Why didn't you then? I mean, if your parents wanted you to…?'

Itachi shrugged his shoulders. 'I didn't want to spend the rest of my life cooped up in a tiny office, doing the same thing day after day.' Sasuke found himself nodding. He knew the feeling – the last thing he wanted to do was become a salary man like almost every other guy in Japan; working for a soul-sucking cooperation that would force him to work until 11pm every night, before returning to a dismal apartment in a crowded suburb, shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of others just like him. The idea filled him with dread, and he felt an odd admiration towards the man for the briefest of moments.

Itachi continued leading the way through the campus, passing by the main buildings for law, sciences, and even Sasuke's own literature block, where he had sat in his lectures that very morning. They seemed to be heading towards the outskirts of the campus, towards its eastern side. Sasuke hadn't been there much, despite being a second year student, and was unsure of what really existed out that far, except maybe the theatre and drama block. It was only when the gravel path forked between a boulevard of spindly trees, the majority of which were rapidly losing their leaves in the late summer sun, that Sasuke began to realise exactly where they were heading.

As if to confirm his thoughts, as they rounded the corner, the arts building came into view.

It was an unassuming building, only consisting of a few classrooms and studio spaces which could be rented out to the arts students throughout the semester. It looked similar in age to the literature block – it definitely hadn't been revamped or updated for quite a few years. A dying ivy plant crept up a wooden trellis between the windows. A flower bed running along the side of the building was home to huge sunflowers, their petals sunshine yellow as black beetles crawled over to examine their seed-filled centres.

'Surprised?' Itachi asked him, reaching in his pocket for a swipe card as they approached the double doors. Sasuke looked around, watching the group of students who had occupied a large picnic bench just to the right of the doors, pouring over each other's sketch books with pencils and pens splayed about them. Artistic chaos.

He nodded in disbelief.

 _Art?_ He thought, following Itachi as he swiped his card through the door's key card access point and entered the building, the doors groaning as they opened inward automatically. _Itachi studies art?_

The building smelt of wet paint and turpentine, making the air feel hot and heavy and stinging the back of his throat. He watched as Itachi raised a hand in greeting to a receptionist, an old lady who peered at them both over the top of her small glasses, her gaze softening when she recognised Itachi, waving back.

'My parents were just as surprised,' Itachi's voice seemed suddenly loud in the quietness of the corridor. No other students seemed to be inside; the majority of them along with the professors had no doubt headed to lunch back in the main canteen. Paintings and sketches were blue-tacked up onto the walls of the corridor, and in the dim light Sasuke could see how some of them were curling at the edges, threatening to fall off. Some, he could see, had been hastily stuck up with yellowed sellotape. Students' names were scribbled in kanji in the corners, illegible marks of smudged graphite.

Itachi fished in his pocket for a small silver key as they neared what looked like a rented studio space at the very end of the corridor. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, standing to one side as he gestured with a tilt of his head for Sasuke to step in. He did so, and found himself shocked by what he saw.

There must have been twenty or so large canvases, some almost as big as the wall space, dotted around the right hand side of the room. Sunlight streamed into the room through the sky lights above them, filling the air with tiny little dust motes which floated aimlessly, catching the light before they disappeared into the shadows. An old easel in the corner of the room held a huge canvas which looked like a work in progress – Sasuke could see large sections of the white canvas beneath the rough strokes of red and black paint. He took a step forward further into the room, astonished. A graphite pencil skidded out from under his foot, and he jumped at the sudden noise.

'Sorry,' Itachi said from behind him as he bent down to pick up the pencil. He threw his bag down onto a table which stood to one side. 'I guess I'm not the tidiest artist.'

'It – It's fine,' Sasuke began, unable to take his focus away from the surreal paintings surrounding him. He heard Itachi approaching him, the fall of his shoes the only sound filling the room, and was surprised to find that amidst the smell of paint and woody pencil shavings, he could smell Itachi's cologne.

'Do you like them?' Itachi asked, reaching out a pale hand and wiping his thumb against the wet red paint on one of the canvases. He looked at the paint on his thumb almost critically, rubbing it between his fingertips until it blurred away. 'It's a new series I'm working on.'

Sasuke looked at the paintings closer. Each canvas was covered in a thick mixture of black, red, and white paint with rough brushstrokes which caused the colours to all blur wetly together. Within one of the smaller canvases, and he had to crouch down to get a really close look, Sasuke thought he could make out a human body, lying prostrate on a scorched red ground. In another, a man seemed to be affixed to a white crucifix, the image of which was smudged out and distorted. On the largest canvas, a dark flock of birds was taking flight from a shadowy mass of pine trees, watched over by a blood red moon.

Sasuke felt an uncomfortable lump forming beneath his adam's apple, and he found himself swallowing once, hard.

'They're incredible,' he breathed, reaching out a fingertip to one of the dry paintings, feeling the texture of the thick dried paint, the bumps of the canvas. Itachi's eyes were on him, watching him intently.

'I've never seen anything like this – I mean, they're…'

'Weird?' Itachi offered, when Sasuke seemed to be struggling to find the right word. 'It's ok,' he said, 'they're not meant to be pleasant viewing. I won't take offence.'

Sasuke knew he was nodding in understanding, but was hardly aware of doing the action. His eyes were drawn hypnotically to the collection of canvases haphazardly placed around the room, the red paint thick like blood.

Fingers brushing the skin above his t-shirt neckline made him jump, breaking him out of his trance as he hastily moved backwards, banging his lower back into the sharp edge of the table behind him. He watched as Itachi held up in his hands, an apology, and Sasuke could see the lingering traces of red paint on his finger and thumb.

Nervously, he brushed himself off and cleared his throat, gesturing towards the paintings. 'They're great.' He tried to ignore the way his skin remained warm at the brush of those fingertips. 'What's your inspiration?'

'Dreams.'

The air around them seemed to grow thick and heavy, and Sasuke felt his skin itch slighly. Itachi was once again looking at the paintings critically, eyes narrowing as if picking apart the imperfections. 'I've had this particular dream since I was little. People get tortured in this place, are forced to wander for days in a red wasteland…' His voice trailed off, and he twirled the pencil still in his hand between his fingers. 'As I've grown older though, the images have faded. The colours have drained in their clarity, nothing is quite as sharp.' He gestured towards the painting on the easel, pointing out the softness of the paint, the dullness of the colours in comparison to the others. 'I guess you can only draw so much inspiration from one place, right?'

He turned, and Sasuke caught his gaze. His dark eyes were soft, his lips slightly apart. Sasuke watched as he licked at his bottom lip subconsciously, making it wet.

He swallowed, cursing himself for feeling so hot and jumpy. The sunlight pouring into the room from the windows disappeared behind cloud, and the room dimmed. Itachi moved away from his paintings, and crossed the room to stand directly in front of him.

'Anyway, I think you owe me something,' he said, reaching forward and poking Sasuke in the chest. At Sasuke's raised eyebrows, he folded his three fingers down, leaving his thumb and pinkie extended, before holding the makeshift phone gesture up to his ear.

Sasuke let out a shaky breath he didn't realise he had been holding, tasting paint fumes in his mouth. His head spun in a giddy circle as he watched Itachi smile, before reaching for a sketchbook lying on the table behind him. The sound of ripping paper tore through the silence, and Itachi offered it to Sasuke, a graphite pencil extended in his other hand. He looked at him expectantly.

Sasuke glared and took the paper and pencil, hastily scrawling his number, hoping that his writing would almost be ineligible. As he brandished the paper back at Itachi, he caught sight of some rough sketches on the reverse side of the torn sheet – and before the man took it from him, folding it up into a neat little square and pocketing it, the dark sketches almost resembled wide, staring eyes with pupils of fire.

Although his attention had at first been taken entirely by the many canvases on the room's right side, he saw now, as he looked around the room – anywhere but at Itachi - that there were in fact a great number of artworks on the other side of the room too. Sasuke approached a large clay sculpture of a horned beetle, roughly the size of his torso. Its legs were outstretched, poised as if ready to attack. To the right, a clay snake lay curled up tightly in a coil, so realistic that for a moment Sasuke wondered if it was in fact real, and merely sleeping away in the comforting darkness of the studio. Other clay sculptures were dotted around on the tables and worktop spaces, some embedded with sharp tools and knives, clearly unfinished.

Itachi followed his gaze and shook his head when Sasuke opened his mouth to ask if they were his too.

'They're by a friend of mine.' He crossed the room and regarded a long sculpture of a centipede. 'He transferred with me from Akatsuki Daigaku. He's mentioned how the kilns here are excellent for his work,' he added as an afterthought.

'Why doesn't he paint them?' Sasuke asked, noticing how all of the sculptures were bare and the colour of sand. Itachi smiled slightly, running a finger along the centipede's smooth body.

'I guess he prefers to show the beauty of the material,' he replied, casting a cautionary glance to the sudden beeping that resounded from his bag lying discarded across the room. He walked over to the bag which had now begun to vibrate and jostle slightly on the table top, pulling his phone out and flipping it open.

'Speak of the devil,' he muttered under his breath, as he quickly scanned the incoming text alert.

Sasuke looked down at his wrist watch, realising with a jolt that lunch time was almost over – and that he had a lecture on the other side of the campus starting in about five minutes. He winced at the thought of getting a cautionary warning from his sensei, and shouldered his bag with one smooth movement.

Itachi, sensing Sasuke's movements, finished reading the text and flipped the phone shut with a snap.

'There's a party on tonight at the student union apparently,' he said, slipping the phone back into his bag and zipping it firmly shut. 'A couple of us are thinking of heading down, including my artist friend. Would you be interested?'

Sasuke almost did a double take. He'd heard Naruto talk of the party that morning over breakfast, but wasn't planning on going. He wasn't one for student union nights; he'd realised fairly quickly into his first semester at that drinking himself into a stupor under a whirl of neon lights and hot sweaty bodies wasn't his idea of fun. Much like the other parties that were thrown on the university campus, Sasuke planned to give this one a miss. However, the thought of going with Itachi and his friends had a sudden, strange appeal. He resisted the urge to physically shake the thoughts out of his head, and declined the offer.

'I'm good,' he said, gesturing to the heavy bag that thumped against his hipbone. 'I've got some serious catching up to do this evening anyway.' A quick glance at his watch reminded him of the time, and he headed towards the studio door.

Itachi was silent, and for a moment Sasuke panicked that he could see straight through his blatant lie. Well, truth be told it wasn't a lie as such, he did indeed have a bit of catching up to do considering the lectures he had already missed, but for some reason the thought of being any closer to Itachi – underneath a myriad of nightclub lights and heavy, thumping music – made him feel slightly sick. He had no idea why the image resounded so strongly in his mind, but he could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as he looked at the man sitting perched atop one of the tables, sorting out a handful of paintbrushes and pencils. He again found himself noticing those pale, faded patches on his knees, the tightness of the shirt bunched above his elbows. There was a dark smudge of graphite on his forearm, and Sasuke felt his eyes oddly drawn to it. Being with Itachi at a party seemed like a bad idea.

'Well, drop me a line if you do end up going.' Itachi said, examining one of the paintbrushes in his grip as he dipped it into a small puddle of drying red paint on a palette next to him. He lowered himself down off the table and reached out for Sasuke just as he opened the heavy studio door, grabbing his forearm and stopping him from leaving.

Sasuke's heart threatened to jump into his throat as he felt those fingers encircle his arm, sliding down to turn his wrist upwards before he could say anything. He watched as with deliberate gentleness, Itachi painted his phone number onto his forearm. The paint was cold, and the brushstrokes tickled in a way that made a shiver drop down his spine, making his skin bristle. When he had finished, Itachi lifted the tiny paintbrush to his mouth and slowly drew the brushes into a point against his tongue. Sasuke watched with a fascination, wondering if Itachi even knew he was doing the action.

'Just in case.' The words were soft, and as he spoke Sasuke could see the faint trance of red paint on his tongue.

As he left the art building, leaving Itachi behind to carry on with his paintings, Sasuke willed his heart to stop racing. His cheeks were burning with anger, nerves - embarrassment at his _own_ embarrassment. The ten digits stared up at him accusingly whenever he looked down at his wrist throughout the rest of the day, and even as he sat in his lecture, or swung his heavy shinai during kendo practice with Neji and their teammates that evening, he kept mistaking the red paint for dried blood.

* * *

Back in his room, Sasuke threw his empty cup noodle into the trash can under his desk. He put his chopsticks to one side, reminding himself to take them down to the communal kitchen later on to wash up. There was no way he would try to go down there now – predrinks were well and truly in full swing. He could hear the heavy dance music resounding up the staircase and down his corridor; the bass lines were making his walls vibrate and his window rattle gently. It was one of the drawbacks of living in a university dorm, he thought to himself as he lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and ignoring the weight of the Murakami hardback he had rested on his chest. The communal space on the ground floor could, within only a few hours, become a hive of activity and noise as students prepared for their nights out, taking turns to shot dubious looking liquors and hot cups of steaming sake in an attempt to avoid the notoriously high bar prices in the clubs. Being on one of the higher floors, Sasuke rarely encountered drunk students hammering on his door, and only occasionally had to step over a slumbering body in the corridor the following morning.

He shifted, letting his head sink a little deeper into his pillow as he closed his eyes. His body ached from the kendo practice that evening – he'd twisted his ankle painfully as he tried to dodge a blow from Neji, the offending shinai striking him hard on one shoulder. He had only just won that fight, and was reminded of Itachi's lesson to quieten his mind and focus more on his surroundings.

In the next match he had defeated Neji in three easy moves.

The pillow was soft against his head, and the book a reassuring weight on his chest. He knew he had to try and finish at least the first three chapters that evening, but as he lay there, listening to the steady thump of the music from below him, he found it increasingly hard to fight the sleep that was creeping up on him.

He knew he was dreaming when he found himself back in Itachi's art studio. The floor was made of torn out sketchbook pages, each one featuring a sketch or two. Detailed anatomical drawings of skulls and eyeballs followed him, coming alive in their paper prison, staring up at him as he walked through the room. They skittered across the pages, darting out of the way of his bare feet. A flock of birds came to life below him and flew across the floor, chattering and chirping madly as they jostled into the corner of the room.

'What am I doing here?' He asked, feeling strangely disjointed from the voice that came from his throat. His words echoed around the room.

_What am I doing here?_

Itachi was standing by one of the large windows at the end of the room, twirling a paintbrush in one hand as he looked out at the campus grounds. The autumn leaves were billowing from skeletal branches, piling up in great mounds of rusty orange and burnt reds against the bottom of the window, pushing up against the glass as if wanting in.

'I knew you'd come,' Itachi said, and suddenly Sasuke was behind him, looking up at his back. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Itachi's dark shirt, wanting more than anything for the man to turn around, to face him. The want was burning away inside his stomach, and as Itachi did turn, and his hand fell from the satiny fabric, he was surprised to find his hand come away black and wet. Itachi's shirt was made of paint.

'Did you put ice on that?' He grinned, stepping forward, making Sasuke back away and hit the worktop behind him. The table held firm, and Itachi's hand was suddenly on his chest, coaxing him to lie against the tabletop. He felt his feet leave the floor and his sense of direction suddenly felt thrown out of balance.

The sketches on the floor were darting anxiously from sheet to sheet, curious. A raven with two heads fluttered its wings and cawed loudly.

_Did you put ice on that?_

The question echoed around them, and he felt his mouth go dry as Itachi leant over him, placing wet lips against his neck. He knew that when Itachi pulled away there would be a smudge of red paint against his skin, mirroring where his lips had been.

'I don't do this sort of thing,' Sasuke found himself saying, shutting his eyes tightly as he felt another kiss land on his temple. The smell of cologne mixed with the alcoholic astringency of white spirit and drying paint, and his heart gave a painful thud in his chest.

_I want to do this sort of thing._

Soft lips brushed his skin.

'You knew what you were getting into when you came here.'

Itachi's hands were on him then, holding his hipbones down against the table and pressing his body down onto him. Heat burned at the points where they touched, resonating a deep warmth which coiled sharply in Sasuke's abdomen. A large clay spider came to life on the other side of the room and skuttled onto the ceiling. Each leg gave a hollow tap as it moved, stopping just above Sasuke's head. It seemed to peer down at him, and Sasuke could see tiny fangs jutting out from its mouth.

Pain flared from the side of his head as Itachi's teeth bit into his ear, dragging down until he reached the earlobe and sucked gently. Above him, the clay spider twitched and bit at the air eagerly.

'I don't know you,' he managed to say, words breathy and head spinning as one hand began to kneed at his hipbone.

 _I don't know you_.

Itachi pushed their bodies together tighter in reply, causing Sasuke to groan at the unbearable heat between them. He clung onto the edge of the table with one hand, feeling the world tilt dangerously to one side. He found himself wondering, madly, if Alice felt similar sensations on her journey to Wonderland.

 _Sasuke in Wonderland_.

He felt Itachi kiss him once more on his jaw bone before he lifted his head. He was looking at Sasuke and smirking, red paint staining his lips like some sort of ethereal geisha display. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, taking no notice of the paint that smeared on his skin like blood. Sasuke's body arched upwards, meeting that body above him again with a flush of heat, and he relished in the way Itachi's eyes closed gently, briefly, blissfully.

When those dark eyes reopened, Sasuke found himself staring at two red pupils. It didn't surprise him that he was looking at the blood red moon which occurred in almost every one of Itachi's paintings.

'Wake up, Sasuke,' Itachi said, looking down at him with eyes of fire.

' _Sasuke!'_

And Sasuke did wake up, suddenly, chest heaving as he struggled to take in a breath, sweat sticking his hair to his damp forehead as he launched himself up in bed. The Murakamai book atop his chest fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Black spots like tiny insects flickered and crawled at the edge of his vision, and he rested a damp palm against his forehead as he tried to calm his breathing. Naruto's voice shouted again from his doorway, his fist hammering hard on the wooden door.

'Sasuke I know you're in there! Open up!'

Three heavy knocks shook the door again, and Sasuke swung his feet off the bed. The bastard was going to take the door right off its hinges if he carried on thumping at it like that. He moved to the door, ignoring the tight pain from within his jeans that protested at the sudden movement. He flicked the latch and opened the door wide, letting Naruto fall in as he attempted to shoulder-barge the door, shouting out in surprise.

'You _are_ alive!' The blonde shouted incredulously, pointing an accusing finger at Sasuke as he righted himself and brushed his hands down his orange t-shirt. The blue slogan read 'Number 1!' in loud lettering.

'What do you want?' Sasuke asked, trying to shake off the sleep that still blurred his eyes. He had fallen asleep still fully clothed, and his jeans felt hot and painful against his groin; his t-shirt still clung wetly to his back. He looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table, and in the darkness of the room he could make out the glowing numbers 10:40pm. He must've only been asleep for an hour or so at most, even though it had felt like an eternity. The image of Itachi's red eyes and white hands came into his mind, and he panicked, trying to ignore the striking image.

The music had stopped pumping out from the speaker system in the common room, and Sasuke could hear the heavy front door to the dorm block slamming shut as students left in jostling groups.

'Come to the party Sasuke,' Naruto pleaded, slapping his palms together to form a crude prayer sign. 'I know you hate them but it _is_ the first party of the semester – just come for a few drinks, all of us are heading down there and we don't want to leave you out.' Sasuke curiously stuck his head out of his bedroom door and could see the small group of friends lingering at the staircase. Sakura and Ino were wearing tight-fitting party dresses and finishing off the last of whatever was in their glasses. Neji was there too, amongst others, chugging the last of a beer which he scrunched up and tossed down the staircase, clattering against the walls as it bounced down. From below, a student shouted out, and the group burst into fits of intoxicated laughter.

'Come on,' Naruto pleaded again, looking up at his dark-haired friend with puppy-dog eyes. He stepped back out into the corridor as Sasuke pushed him hard in the chest, sending him reeling backwards as the door slammed shut in his face.

'Give me five minutes,' Sasuke said, voice muffled from within his room, and Naruto flashed his group of friends a thumbs up, grinning as he did so.

Sasuke shook his head, listening to the cheers that resounded down the corridor at Naruto's persuasive powers. He approached his desk and cast a cautionary glance into the mirror hung above it on the wall, poking a finger into his flushed cheeks. The fingertip left a white mark which flooded red after a second or two, and he winced, embarrassed. His groin twitched painfully, and he felt his erection protest against the tightness of his jeans zipper.

'What the fuck,' he muttered to himself as he tried to quickly fix his hair, raking his fingers through it in a rough attempt to style it. He grabbed for his pot of wax, noticing how he could see the bottom of the tub now, and scooped up some to try and smooth into the spikes. All the while his skin prickled with arousal, and he tried his hardest to ignore it.

'There's no way in hell that I'd jerk off to someone like that.'

He wondered if he'd feel better if he said it aloud, and yet he found himself doubting his own words. As he rifled through his clothes draws, throwing aside numerous t-shirts and pairs of socks before deciding on a smart navy shirt, he found himself thinking of the dream, of Itachi's mouth hot against his neck. He slammed the drawer shut forcefully, swearing as he clipped his finger in the draw hinge. The sudden flare of white-hot pain brought him sharply out of his imagination, and the heat of his erection began to fade.

He examined his finger, wincing as the small cut oozed a droplet of thick red blood, the size of a teardrop. He quickly sucked it, toeing on his shoes as he swiped for his wallet and phone, lying on his desk. Naruto shouted a 'hurry up!' from outside the door, and it was only as reached for the door handle that he caught sight of the numbers on his wrist.

He stood there for a moment, eyes glancing at those ten little red numbers and at the phone in his other hand. With a reluctant sigh, he flipped open his phone and quickly added a new contact under Itachi's name, adding in the number and clicking _save_. He rubbed at the paint on his skin and it crackled and peeled, smudging out of existence as if it were never there.

His finger oozed a fresh drop of blood and he sucked it away, throwing open the door and shoving his phone and wallet in his jeans. His keys jangled in his hand.

Itachi was going to be at the party, a voice inside Sasuke's head reminded him, threatening to rouse up some of the images from the dream.

 _So what?_ He thought, as he closed the door behind him and locked it, raising a hand to gesture to Naruto and his friends who were whooping at the end of the corridor, shouting for him to hurry up. It wasn't as if he was going to avoid Itachi – that would only make him out to be some sort of lovesick teenager.

 _A dream doesn't mean anything,_ he firmly reminded himself. _And anyway, I'll most likely have forgotten all about in a few hours._

As he joined his friends at the stairwell and followed them down onto the ground floor, he took a chug from the beer can offered to him by Naruto. The beer was warm and frothy in his mouth, but tasted good. Neji was making a joke about one of the new kendo club members, and everybody laughed as they exited the building.

Breathing in the cool night air, Sasuke thought he could smell rain. The air prickled with humidity, and he wondered if it might thunder later on that night. His friends seemed oblivious and laughed at another joke as they headed towards the student union, a short distance away from their dorm block. Other groups of students were heading the same way, and Sasuke fell into place behind his friends, following them and sipping on the beer as he walked.

Above them, the moon shone silvery white through gaps in the clouds, and Sasuke found himself thinking of Itachi's surreal paintings, featuring the blood red moon in a black, starless sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

The music blaring inside the club was almost deafening. A heady mix of dance remixes and droning bass lines reverberated around the student union, making Sasuke's ears ring and skin prickle. A remix of a popular Vocaloid track was being played, and huge groups of students danced along to its computerised beat.

'How about a game of janken-pon for the first round?' Naruto made the rock paper and scissors gesture as he yelled loudly above the volume of the music, blaring out from the numerous speakers around the room. Sakura and Ino weren't listening, and had instead rushed off in the direction of another group of girls who were waving to them from the bar. Neji shrugged and threw forward a confident fist.

'Sure, why not?'

Naruto grinned and looked at Sasuke expectantly, who in turn gave a sigh and placed his own hand forward. 'Fine.'

Needless to say, janken pon wasn't Naruto's game. Losing with his paper to Neji and Sasuke's scissors, he swore loudly before sulking towards the crowded bar. As they followed, Sasuke found himself cautiously scanning the room. Groups of students were sitting on large rounded sofas, drinking and laughing loudly as the lights from above flickered and changed colour in time to the beat of the music. The floor under foot was slightly sticky with spilt drinks, a common trait of any student union, he thought to himself.

He watched as Naruto elbowed his way through the crowd at the bar, waving a fistful of yen notes at the bartender in an attempt to get noticed. Beside him, Neji gave him a nudge and gestured towards a few empty sofas which had become available.

'Let's grab a seat,' he shouted, and together they headed over to quickly sit down before anybody else could grab them.

As they sat down, Sasuke couldn't help but give another cautionary glance around the room. Itachi had said he would be here at some point tonight, and for some reason just the idea of bumping into him again made his stomach flip. He leaned back into the plush sofa next to Neji, trying to ignore the nerves that were starting to build inside him.

Neji watched as his stoic friend began to subconsciously pick at the skin around his nails with his fingertips, an action he had noticed Sasuke do just before a kendo match. A nervous tick or something, he presumed.

'You alright?' He asked, as Naruto started to head back towards their table, three beers cradled carefully in his hands. Sasuke nodded, taking the beer offered to him as Naruto sat down opposite – jostling his own drink and spilling some onto the glass coffee table between them as he did so.

'I'm fine. With the match against Sunagakure coming up I guess I'm just trying to cram in as much practice time as possible.' He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, adjusting the button slightly. 'Not to mention I've got about a dozen essays due in the next few weeks.'

Naruto gave a groan and ran a hand through his blonde hair. 'The professors aren't messing around this year huh.' He chugged a mouthful of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'I swear I might as well just take a sleeping bag into the library and sleep under the fucking bookshelves.'

Neji laughed and leaned across the coffee table, clinking Naruto's beer with his own. 'I'll drink to that.'

Sasuke nodded in agreement and clinked his beer too. They all swallowed back a mouthful of cold beer simultaneously, and as the alcohol hit his system, Sasuke found himself relaxing. The cold beer warmed quickly in his hand, and he rubbed off the big droplets of condensation forming on the bottle's neck. The air in the bar was hot and sticky, and he could feel sweat forming behind his shirt collar.

They drank another round of beers together, trying to talk over the top of the music as Neji berated Naruto's ability to hold his liquor – a remark which resulted in Naruto defiantly buying a round of whisky chasers. Sasuke had initially refused the potent mix of whisky and beer, but like so many other nights, found himself joining in with the race to finish both drinks in quick succession.

As he downed the whisky shot and followed it through with another bottle of beer, he found himself noticing how the lights above him spun in a dizzying circle. He finished off his bottle and gasped for air, watching as Naruto and Neji did the same, before they all winced and groaned in pain. Naruto laughed loudly, slamming his empty shot glass upside down onto the coffee table in triumph.

'Who says I can't hold my liquor Neji, huh?' He grinned.

Neji turned slightly to Sasuke. 'Let's see how well you'll do when you try to stand up,' he muttered in reply, before turning back to Naruto to gesture to the group of girls heading to the dancefloor.

'Hey, looks like Sakura's going for a dance – go on Naruto, go and show her your best moves.'

Sasuke found himself smiling as Naruto whipped his head around, wiping his mouth again as he jumped to his feet. He moved to take a step, caught his knee on the side of the coffee table, and took a staggering step to one side where he stood there, wobbling.

Sasuke and Neji both burst into laughter, watching as their friend attempted to right himself.

'Alright alright very funny,' he said loudly, handing Sasuke his empty beer bottle as he took another cautious step. The girls were quickly disappearing into the crowds, and he hurried to catch up with them. 'See you guys later!' He yelled back to Sasuke and Neji, waving as he narrowly missed walking right into one of the large speakers.

Neji laughed, placing his own beer back down on the table. The collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses seemed to be growing quickly before them.

'One more round?' He asked, gesturing to the bar which had started to die down a little.

'Yeah sure, I'm gonna go get some fresh air real quick though. Meet you back here?'

Neji gave him a thumbs up and headed towards the bar. He must have bumped into some friends there, as Sasuke watched him shake hands with some of the other people queuing. Standing up, Sasuke placed a cautious hand on the back of the sofa as the room suddenly tilted to one side. The loud music resonated throughout the room, and he could feel the bass quiver in his bones. A wave of nausea swept over him, rushing from head to toe, and a sharp pain pulsated sharply in his right temple. He needed some fresh air, badly.

Taking a careful step around the coffee table (he managed to miss the sharp edge which Naruto had stumbled into) he quickly scanned the room for the exit to the smoking area. He spotted the glowing exit sign in the furthest corner of the room and headed towards it, apologising as he bumped into a crowd of people who stepped into his path. Nearing the heavy exit door, he braced one hand on the cool metal bar and pushed hard, letting the door swing open onto the night air.

The paved patio area outside the club backed onto a small car park, usually used by professors and student union staff during the day. Now, at gone midnight, the place was empty. Two large picnic benches sat under a sheltered smoking area to the left of the door, fenced in by a small brick wall. As he stepped outside and let the door swing heavily shut behind him, Sasuke noticed a group of maybe six or seven students surrounding one of the benches, cigarettes glowing ember orange between their fingertips as they chatted loudly.

The night air was hot and humid, sweltering, and Sasuke unbuttoned his cuffs and pushed up his shirt sleeves in an attempt to get some air on his skin.

'Hey!'

One of the guys at the picnic bench called over.

'Hey man, can I bum a cigarette?'

Sasuke looked over to the guy who was now propping himself up on the bench, his knees folded beneath him like a child. For a second he wondered if the guy addressing him was in fact a guy – his voice was definitely a man's voice, but his long bleach-blonde hair shielding the majority of his face was oddly off-putting. That, and the fact that the hand that was gesturing to him to get his attention had a scrunchie looped around it like a bracelet. The other members of the group continued chatting among themselves, swallowing back mouthfuls of beer and laughing.

'I don't smoke,' Sasuke said curtly, ignoring the way that the noise was lessening now, the other friends becoming curious, looking over their shoulders in his direction.

'Shit.' The blond swept his hair away from his eyes – blue, Sasuke noticed – and tied it into a high ponytail. Half of the pale blond hair fell loose from the binding and fell back down, something which the man clearly didn't mind, as he left it there, obscuring his vision.

'Where's Itachi with the beers?' A loud voice piped up from the far end of the picnic bench, flicking a finger against the empty bottle neck in his hand. Sasuke felt his skin chill slightly.

'I don't know man but he'd better hurry up, I'm running on empty here.'

'He's probably got himself caught up in a swarm of first year girls,' somebody said loudly, laughing. 'You know how Itachi is.'

For some reason, a pang of jealousy hit Sasuke. Confused, he tried to ignore the strange feeling spreading hot warmth up to his cheeks.

'Hey, has anyone got a cigarette?' The blond was up and asking again, leaning across the bench and ignoring the protests as the table dipped slightly from his weight. He knocked an empty beer bottle with his elbow and it went rolling across the tabletop. 'Come on guys, I just want one.'

'I _just_ want _one_ ,' the table sang back in a mocking chorus, laughing as the man scowled and attempted to throw a punch at the guy opposite, a red-head, who simply leaned back laughing, taunting the blond as he drew a deep breath on his own cigarette and blew it casually into his face.

'What do you want kid?' A tall, heavy-set man rose from the bench and regarded Sasuke with a raised eyebrow. 'Seat's taken here.'

Sasuke's head spun in a dizzying circle before he attempted to speak. 'You guys know Itachi?' He asked, looking past the tall man back to the table. The blond was sitting back on his heels on the bench seat, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he finished off a can of coke.

'We're his friends,' the blond said, 'well, technically _I'm_ his friend – I moved here with him from Akatsuki Daigaku.' A sarcastic murmur rippled through the group, followed by laughter.

'You're on the art program here too?' Sasuke found himself asking, thinking back to the clay sculptures he had seen back in the studio room.

The blond nodded and grinned proudly. 'Sculptures. Best art medium out there, right?'

Somebody laughed into their drink. 'If you're an artistic failure that is.'

The blond shot a dirty look across the table and a raised a fist, and for a moment Sasuke thought he was going to launch himself across the tabletop.

'I saw your work – the clay spiders and insects. They were really cool,' he said quickly, ignoring how a few of the other guys were raising their eyebrows and smirking at one another. The blond wasn't paying them any attention though, and was instead looking up at Sasuke with a wide smile.

'You liked them? My first project for this semester – I'm planning to do some research into mixing clay materials with explosives – '

'Explosives?' Sasuke asked, noticing how the other members of the group had sighed and put their heads in their hands. Obviously this topic had been broached before.

'Sure! I mean, art is this gorgeous fleeting moment right? What better way to convey that idea than by creating an art form which has all the magnitude of an explosion!' He threw his arms wide, smacking the guys either side of him and causing them to swear aloud.

'Fucking hell Deidara tone it down a bit would you?' One guy muttered as his drink was jostled, splashing dark droplets of beer across his lap. 'Jesus Christ.'

'Oh come on,' Deidara said dejectedly as he pouted. ' _This_ guy gets me.' He pointed a finger at Sasuke, who shuffled awkwardly, pushing his hands deep into his jeans pockets. 'This guy appreciates good art when he sees it!' The smile faltered slightly as Deidara continued to look at him curiously, as if he'd suddenly thought of something.

'Wait a sec, how come you've seen my work? You been snooping in my studio space or something?'

Across the table, the red-haired guy narrowed his eyes at Sasuke as he sucked on his cigarette, wiping off the hot ash that dropped to the table top and smearing it white into the wood. 'Have you been hanging out with Itachi?'

Sasuke moved to open his mouth, but quickly shut it when the sound of the heavy door to the club closed firmly behind his back.

'My ears are burning,' Itachi said from behind him, his voice low and calculating. 'What's the problem, you guys miss me that much?' He walked past Sasuke, leather jacket tied casually around his waist, arms cradling an assortment of glasses and beer bottles fresh from the bar. The iced glasses were forming wet droplets on Itachi's bare arms, wetting his skin. In the haze of cigarette smoke and humid air, Sasuke felt his head spin. His mouth felt dry and chalky, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of sand, and he found himself wishing for a glass of water.

Itachi approached the table and offered out the drinks, rousing a murmur of appreciation and cheers as glass bottles were clinked loudly together. Deidara leaned across the table and grabbed at a bottle of kirin beer. 'Did you bring a drink for my newest friend?' He said, grinning in Sasuke's direction as he raised his bottle in a mock toast. 'Not gonna lie Itachi, but I have a feeling this guy is gonna be my number one fan.'

The red-haired guy grabbed for a tumbler, heavy with dark liquid. 'Then he'll be your only fan,' he said assuredly, causing the other men to laugh loudly around their drinks.

'Fuck you Sasori,' Deidara replied. 'You wouldn't know good art if it reached out and punched you in the face.'

Sasori seemed to bristle at the comment, and Sasuke watched as Itachi reached into his back pocket with one hand, before throwing a pack of Marlboros at the blond, deterring the argument. Deidara snatched the packet out of the air greedily, ripping open the tab and pulling out a cigarette with his teeth. He grinned, the cigarette dancing between his teeth as he leaned across the table top once again, ignoring the shouts of protest and annoyance as he leaned over to Itachi on his hands and knees.

Standing at the head of the table, Itachi sighed before rummaging in his pocket. He pulled free a black lighter, clicked it a few times, and offered the sputtering flame to the cigarette in Deidara's mouth. It sparked and began to glow, and Sasuke watched as the blond exhaled a grateful cloud of smoke before he sat back down in his seat.

'Have a drink,' Itachi said, turning to Sasuke to offer him a tumbler. Ice cubes clattered against the glass as he shook it lightly in front of him.

Sasuke took it, pushing the mixing stick to one side as he took a mouthful, aware of the way Itachi was looking at him, watching him. Freezing cold whiskey hit his tongue and began to burn in the back of his throat as he swallowed. He couldn't suppress the cough as he handed the drink back to Itachi, unable to help the way his body shuddered at the neat alcohol.

Itachi was smiling as he took the drink, swallowing a mouthful without a sound as he swirled the amber liquid around with the ice cubes. The picnic bench was awash with noise, as everybody started to chat and laugh together under the heady influence of more alcohol.

'I didn't think you were coming tonight.'

Sasuke shrugged. 'My friends dragged me along,' he said, gesturing behind them at the club building. A loud dance remix was playing inside, and even from outside the bass seemed to reverberate in the walls.

'You're easily persuaded, then,' Itachi said, smiling as the comment struck a nerve and caused Sasuke's eyes to narrow. He took another sip on his drink and offered it back to Sasuke once again, challenging him.

Angrily Sasuke took the tumbler and downed the remaining whiskey, ignoring how the ice cubes clattered against his teeth and the liquid burned in his throat. He wondered briefly if he should play into Itachi's hands so easily – but he tried to ignore the fleeting thought.

'Woah! Fanboy's on a roll, yeah!' Deidara said loudly from across the table, laughing as Sasuke defiantly pushed the empty glass back at Itachi's chest.

'I want you to spar with me,' Sasuke found himself saying, wincing as the whisky hit his throat and burned like fire down into his stomach. Itachi took the empty glass from his hand with a look of bemusement. A dark smile crept onto his face.

'I don't think you're in the best state right now,' Itachi said as he approached Sasuke and leant against the warm brick wall of the student union. Laughter came from the table, and Sasuke glared in their direction. Itachi smirked at the laughter, pulling another pack of Marlboros from his pocket and lighting up a cigarette, cupping his hands around the flame as he flicked his dark hair away from his face.

'I don't mean now,' Sasuke reiterated, 'I mean for my kendo practice. The match against Sunagakure is coming up and I want to spar some more.'

Itachi leant his head back against the wall, holding a lungful of tobacco smoke thoughtfully before releasing his breath. Sasuke watched as the smoke left his nostrils and curled wistfully up into the night air.

'I can tutor you some more if you agree to meet me at lunchtimes. I'd appreciate the company whilst I paint.' He flicked the edge of the cigarette with his thumb nail, an action which suggested it had been practiced many times before. Hot white ash fell to the floor like confetti.

High above them, a white burst of lightning tore its way across the dark sky, spiking off into branches as it shattered its way across the encroaching clouds. A low rumble of thunder followed, echoing the bass notes inside the club.

'Storm's coming,' Itachi said, examining the sky.

Sasuke watched as a heavy droplet of rain pattered onto Itachi's cheek and slipped down his jawline.

In his drunken state, he found it took all of his will to stop himself reaching out a hand and tracing that droplet with a fingertip. He roughly pushed a hand through his hair, his fingertips snagging slightly in the dried hair gel and tugging painfully.

'Let's head back inside guys,' Sasori muttered from across the table, standing up and throwing a dark jacket over one shoulder. 'We're going to get soaked out here. You coming 'tachi?'

Itachi paused, cast a sideways glance at the raven-haired boy to his left, and shook his head. 'I'll catch you guys up.'

Stumbling to their feet and scrabbling for their jackets and wallets, the group began to head back towards the heavy metal door. Deidara was desperately drinking down the last of everybody's drinks – swallowing mouthfuls of diluted beer and vodka and ignoring everyone's drunken protests. As the rain began to come down heavier, the group made their way back into the warmth of the club, jostling at the entrance as they pushed their way through the open door, shouting at one another to move out of the way. Eventually, they made it into the safety of the dry building.

Regarding his dampening cigarette, Itachi tutted and flicked the end into the ash tray on the empty table. Next to him, Sasuke stood in silence, leaning against the wall.

'You're going to get soaked.'

Itachi's voice sounded far away, distant – and as Sasuke stood there in the drizzling rain, he found himself wondering if he was actually under water. The air around him felt hot and heavy, clinging to him with the rain and soaking through his navy shirt. The toes of his shoes glistened wetly. _This isn't good_ , he thought as he pressed a palm to his spinning head.

'Hey, you ok?'

_I need to get back to my room._

A warm hand was around his own, then, pulling his own fingers away from his face. A strong hand was under his chin, pushing his face up. Heavy droplets of warm rain struck his cheeks and eyelashes, rolling down his face like tears. Itachi was looking at him, concerned.

 _I don't want him to see me like this_.

'I think we need to get you inside.'

He began untying his leather jacket from around his waist, raindrops falling from the fabric in a spattering of heavy droplets onto the floor as he threw it over Sasuke's shoulders. The coat was heavy and warm, and as it was tugged firmly around him, he caught the scent of Itachi's cologne on the soft collar. Spices, citrus, sandalwood.

'I'm fine,' he mumbled, trying to push away the offending item, embarrassed, only to feel two hands on him, holding him tight.

'Sure you are kiddo,' Itachi said sarcastically.

Sasuke bristled visibly at the comment. He turned angrily, pushing the older man hard with one hand. 'I don't need your help alright?' The jacket slipped from one of his shoulders, rain soaking into his shirt. 'And – don't… don't call me…'

His voice trailed off as he winced, the axis of the earth seeming to tilt dangerously to one side as his stomach gave a painful lurch. He spun around, bracing himself against the rough brick wall with his palms as he leaned forward and threw up painfully.

'Charming…' Itachi muttered, ignoring Sasuke's groans of protest as he approached and roughly pushed the heavy jacket back up onto his shoulders, shielding him from the rain. A bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating them briefly in hot white light. A rumble of thunder echoed above them.

'I'm heading home,' Sasuke muttered weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to push himself up from the wall. His hair hung wetly in front of his eyes, dark strands glossy like ink against his pale skin. His mouth felt dry,sore, and his throat burned.

Itachi reached forward and placed a hand on the back of Sasuke's neck, causing him to flinch.

'I'll walk you back.'

The feeling of Itachi's fingers reassuringly pressing against his bare neck sent an odd chill down his spine, and his body shivered beneath the warm jacket.

'I don't need your help, I'll be fine.'

He begun to remove the jacket, but Itachi's hand stopped him.

'Keep it,' he said, casting his eyes up towards the rainy sky. 'You can't afford to catch a cold before the match against Sunagakure. I'm not going to train you if you're sick.'

Sasuke's cheeks flushed with heat and he nodded, holding the jacket tightly around him as he slipped his arms into the long sleeves.

'Besides,' Itachi continued, 'you can give it back to me tomorrow lunch time, right?'

As he spoke, he reached down to Sasuke's middle and pulled the jacket close around his wet torso. He zipped the jacket up slowly, until his fingers were almost touching the bare skin of Sasuke's wet throat. He watched as the boy swallowed, the movement tightening his throat for the briefest of moments.

'Let your friends know you're going home,' he said quietly, as he left Sasuke and headed towards the door. He entered the building without a single glance back, and Sasuke was left standing there for a moment, watching the metal door swing heavily shut behind him.

He groaned, leaning back against the wall as he wiped his hand across his wet face. The rain continued to pour down, soaking into his dark jeans and making them cling to his legs, strangely cooling in the muggy night air. The heavy jacket was big on him; the sleeves hung down and almost hid his hands completely from view. He tucked his fingers up inside and felt the buttery leather on the cuffs, soft with age. He wondered how long Itachi had had it.

He cautiously pushed himself up from the wall, wobbling slightly as his stomach gave another lurch. He pushed the feeling of nausea down, concentrating instead on heading back to the campus grounds. The storm seemed to be passing; the rain splattering down noisily onto the jacket seemed lighter. As he walked, he looked up and saw a faint glimmer of the moon through a gap in the passing clouds.

_'When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in...'_

The quote sprung into his mind. He thought he had read it earlier on that evening in one of Murakami's novels.

'...that's what this storm is all about.' His words were quiet in the night air, and as he headed back towards his room, he found himself curling his fingers into the jacket, holding it tightly around him as he walked through the warm summer rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Sasuke noticed was the splitting headache ripping through his skull. He groaned, throwing a hand over his face and rubbing at his forehead, wincing at the pain that flourished there. Sunlight filtered into his bedroom from around the thin gaps in the curtains, forming bright white lines on his walls. He hesitated before casting a glance at his alarm clock on his bedside table. 9:30am. He pushed himself up, letting the warm duvet slide down into his lap as he swung his bare legs over the side of the bed, trying to ignore the pain that roared in his head at the sudden movement. He couldn't bear to reach over and open the curtains - knowing full well that bright sunlight was perhaps the worst thing for his hangover at that particular moment. There was an opened box of pocky on his dresser, and he reached over to grab it, sliding one of the pretzel sticks into his mouth. The crunch was unsatisfying, stale, he figured, as he chewed down the chocolate and biscuit.

_What happened last night?_

He vaguely remembered drinking with Naruto and Neji – playing jan-ken pon for rounds of drinks in the student bar, and going outside for some fresh air. Itachi was there with a group of friends – one of them had been blond and acted like a child – Dei-something. His head throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat as he tried to remember the evening.

His cheeks suddenly flushed with embarrassment. Did he actually… throw up? Infront of Itachi?

'Fantastic…' he muttered, biting down on another soft pretzel stick. His clothes lay in a messy pile on the floor, and from somewhere within the pile his phone gave a weary, muffled bleep. Sighing, he reached forward and rummaged through the clothes, still damp from the rain that had soaked him through. He found his phone in his jeans pocket, screen flashing with a new text alert.

_Yo dude, you awake yet? Want to come chill in the library if you're feeling rough? I've got a feeling I'm gonna be here for a while yet. I'll grab a coffee for ya. Naruto._

He realised with a pang of embarrassment that the text had been sent well over an hour ago, and he'd slept right through it. He quickly typed out a reply, saying that he was just showering and then would head over, and for Naruto to save him the coffee. Moving quickly, he grabbed a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his dresser, reaching for his towel which was hanging over the back of his desk chair. It was only when he was about to leave his room and head for the showers that he noticed something strange and out of place; a dark leather jacket, wet with rain, hanging on his door handle. In the darkness of the room, he could faintly make out the glistening wet droplets that had run down the back of the jacket and landed on the wooden floor. He reached out slowly and touched the jacket, cold, slippery, feeling the leather between his finger and thumb. His hand came away wet.

Itachi's jacket, he realised, remembering how he had thrown it over his shoulders, insisting that he wear it home. Itachi's fingers, zipping it up, resting at the base of his throat.

A shudder ran through his body, raising the fine hairs on his arms and making him shiver.

' _Besides… you can give it back to me tomorrow lunch time, right?'_

Sasuke groaned as his head gave another painful thud. Grabbing the jacket and slinging it over one arm, he made his way towards the showers, hoping that the hot water would help him to clear his head.

* * *

'Dude, you look like _shit_.'

'Thanks for that, Naruto.'

Sasuke threw his bag under the computer desk Naruto was sitting at, grabbing a chair and pulling it up next to his friend. He placed Itachi's jacket over the back of the chair, oddly aware of how he was handling it carefully, as if it were made of glass.

'You don't look much better yourself, y'know.'

Naruto gave a snort, pushing his hand through his roughly spiked hair. He leaned back, balancing his chair on its two back legs as he held onto the desk with one hand.

'Still, it was a good night right? Neji said you left early…' He pasued, raising his eyebrows at Sasuke as he winked playfully. 'Did you take some pretty little thing home with you? Needed to leave early to get some _other_ business done, am I right?' He grinned, bringing his chair back onto all four legs as he reached across the desk, grabbing two cold coffee cans from beside his laptop. He handed one to Sasuke, who was shaking his head.

'Neji can wonder all he likes,' he said, popping the cap on the coffee with a metallic twang. 'I just wasn't feeling too well. Besides, the match against Sunagakure is coming up and I didn't want to stay out too late.'

'Yeah yeah, we all know the real reason is you need your beauty sleep,' Naruto laughed, opening his own drink and chugging back a mouthful of sweet sugary coffee.

Sasuke smirked, giving him the middle finger as he swallowed back some of the drink. He could feel the caffeine hitting his system already, a faint prickling in his bloodstream. His headache was diminishing, and after the hot shower and a couple of painkillers, the throbbing pain in his forehead was now just a dull ache. He watched as Naruto sighed, casting a glance towards the towering pile of books placed precariously on top of each other on the desk.

'Are these all yours?' Sasuke asked, gesturing to the Jenga-esque tower of books and manuscripts. Naruto gave a groan and nodded, twirling a biro pen between his fingers as he looked worryingly at the books, almost as if he thought they might suddenly grow teeth and attack him.

'I didn't realise that the martial arts program here would have so many damned essays,' he muttered, pointing the biro accusingly at the books. 'I mean, where am I even meant to start with these fucking things?'

Sasuke smiled as his friend looked at him, blue eyes wide with concern. He shrugged as he finished the last of his coffee, swirling the last remnants in the bottom of the can. He reached out and patted a reassuring hand on Naruto's shoulder.

'You know you mentioned camping out here? Well, I think you're going to need one massive tent to store all these books in.'

Naruto shoved off his hand, laughing. 'You bastard,' he said, grinning as he grabbed a heavy hardback from the top of the pile and threw it at Sasuke's head. Sasuke caught it with a loud thump, wincing as the heavy spine hit his palm. Smirking, he reached over and hit Naruto firmly on the head with it. The resonating thump seemed to echo through the quiet library, and a few students over by the tall bookshelves turned to look at the commotion, their brows furrowed in annoyance.

The two friends tried hard to muffle their laughter, knowing that any moment now a library warden would probably be over to scold them and ask them politely to leave.

Sasuke offered the heavy book back to Naruto, examining the cover as he did so. It was a heavy volume on the history of martial arts in media, and he raised his eyebrows as Naruto reluctantly took it, placing it back on top of the pile.

'At least your books sound remotely interesting,' he said, as he pulled the thumbed-through Murakami novel from his bag, regarding it was distaste. 'I haven't even started Kakashi-sensei's essay yet.'

Naruto gestured towards his towering papers and books. 'Want to trade?'

Sasuke smiled, shaking his head. He thumbed through the paperback novel, feeling the pages between his thumb and forefinger. Sparse notes lined the edges of the paper, and every now and then he'd highlighted a section in neon green, making the passages stand out accusingly from the rest of the text.

'What even is your assignment anyway?' Naruto asked, leaning forward and scrolling through a few open tabs on his laptop. Sasuke caught sight of some gaming sites and an open episode of some anime show which had been paused. 'Don't you have to just read some books and summarise them or something?'

'It's not that easy – I wish it was. We're studying the use of romance in Murakami's novels – you know, why the author uses romance as a major plot point, what he's really trying to get across, what the use of romance says about his views on life and the world...'

Naruto gave a sigh. 'Jesus, I swear you literature students look too much into things.'

Sasuke looked at him curiously. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, do you really reckon the author ever intended for the romance to mean anything? What if he's just trying to say that people fall in love with people. What if there is no hidden meaning?'

Sasuke shrugged, although the questions puzzled him.

_What if there is no hidden meaning?_

'I don't know man,' Naruto said, twirling his biro and chewing on the end. 'Good luck with it though – God knows we both need some luck huh.'

Sasuke nodded, gesturing at the books as he stood to his feet, grabbing his empty can and bag. 'I'd suggest start at the top and work your way down.'

Naruto gave the books another worrying look, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. 'Haha, yeah, you're full of good advice aren't you, genius.'

Sasuke raised a hand in reply, turning to head back to the library's entrance, picking up the dark leather jacket and slinging it over one arm. His lecture was due to start in half an hour, which would give him enough time to quickly grab some breakfast from the canteen and head over to the literature building. If he was lucky, it would be one of the first lectures of the semester that he would actually make it on time for. Heck, he might even be early.

He headed down through the gloomy aisles of the library, looking up at the ornate ceiling high above him. The books reached all the way up to the ancient plaster, dusty tomes and ancient manuscripts lined with dust. Large ladders leant up against the shelves, and Sasuke wondered how many students were brave enough to climb them to reach an elusive book high up on the top shelf.

Passing through the art section, he could see the large double doors of the library's entrance at the end of the aisle. Students were clamouring near the entrance, arms full of heavy books as they waited for the librarian, a stern old woman who wore her grey hair tightly pinned back against his scalp, to check out their books. Sasuke hastened to move past them, apologising as he tried to make his way through, when suddenly something caused him to pause.

Numerous glass display cases stood proudly at the entrance, usually containing rare or first edition copies of books which the University had come to acquire. However, one display case caught his eye. He approached it, leaning closer to see the book behind the glass.

It was a book of Ukiyo-e paintings. Large, square – the title was hard to read as the Japanese calligraphy was faded and the cover slightly damaged.

'It's a new book we've just had delivered,' somebody piped up from behind him and Sasuke jumped, surprised, as a young woman leaned over his shoulder. She pushed her thin black glasses up the bridge of her nose as she leaned forward, narrowing her eyes as she looked closer. 'I think it's a first edition – a collection of Hokusai's prints. I can imagine quite a lot of the art students here will be interested to loan this book out – I can just imagine the length of the reservation list!'

She gazed wistfully at the book, eyes sparkling behind her glasses. 'I envy the first person to discover we've just had it delivered! I would have loved to have come across this when I was a student.'

Her voice trailed off, and Sasuke found himself looking intently at the book, wondering if Itachi was interested at all in Hokusai or Ukiyo-e prints.

'I'll take it,' he found himself saying.

The young library assistant smiled and almost seemed to bounce on her small heels in excitement. 'I'll go and get you a loan receipt!' She said giddily, pushing her glasses up as they slipped down her nose. Sasuke waited as she dashed off to the main desk, pushing past the students as she rushed to get the paperwork. She returned with a large stamp in one hand, and a receipt in the other.

'Such a special book!' She said excitedly to herself, as she removed the glass topper from the display case and opened the first page. The book seemed to creak with the effort, and Sasuke wondered exactly how old the thing was. The young woman firmly stamped the first page, printing the date with a glowing red ink. She gently closed the cover and handed the book to Sasuke, grinning.

'Please be careful with it!' She said, a sudden glint appearing in her eyes. 'All books must be returned within two weeks and in the _exact_ same condition they leave us in.' Sasuke knew there was a threat there, and he nodded firmly, promising to keep it safe.

As he left the library and headed towards the canteen, the heavy book thumped gently against his thigh, tucked away safely in his bag.

* * *

The two hour lecture on analysing Murakami's grammar and syntax – one which Sasuke had been dreading and knew would go slowly – actually seemed to fly by. By the end of the lecture he was pleased to find that he had a good amount of notes, even compared to the girl who had taken the desk next to him, and was happy to find that he'd been able to concentrate fully for the duration of the lecture. He'd even arrived early – something which Kakashi-sensei had still been unable to do.

Now, standing outside the art block, Sasuke found himself hesitating. The good vibes that he'd left the lecture hall with seemed to dissipate as he headed towards the art block across the campus – being replaced instead with an odd feeling of apprehension and a peculiar sense of self-consciousness. He was aware of the weight of the heavy book in his bag; the way that the students sitting leisurely on the grass outside the art block seemed to be eyeing him curiously; the way the leather jacket in his arms was warming softly in the September sunlight. The memory of the storm the night before seemed almost entirely forgotten in the autumnal sun – and were it not for the sharp memory of the rain drops on Itachi's skin, and the white flashes of lightning that tore across the night sky, Sasuke would have believed it to have been a dream.

It was lunchtime, and the last few students were leaving the art block, stretching their arms above their heads and rubbing at their necks – aching from being bent over sketchbooks and canvases. Sasuke quickly entered the building as they left, sliding past them and between the heavy electronic doors before they shut. He couldn't see Itachi in the group, and figured that if he wasn't outside he would probably still be in his studio – maybe even unaware of the time. He could imagine someone like Itachi getting caught up in his work.

The art corridors were dim, and just like last time, they smelt of sticky wet paint and acidic white spirit – a combination which was oddly intoxicating and heady. The reception desk was empty, a small sign had been placed on its top which read 'Closed for Lunch.' He followed the dark corridor, seemingly the only person in the building.

His heartbeat seemed to quicken slightly as he approached Itachi's studio door. It was closed, and for a moment Sasuke wondered if in his drunken state, he had heard Itachi correctly when he said to meet at lunchtime. Reaching out and turning the door knob, he was surprised to feel the cold metal twist easily in his hands, opening up and letting the door swing open wide. The room was unlocked.

'Hello?'

He took a small step into the room, surprised to find that it was in darkness. Reaching out with one hand, he felt along the wall with his fingertips until he felt a light switch. Flicking it on, the room was suddenly illuminated in white light – the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling flickering to life. The windows on the far side of the room had their blinds drawn, and Sasuke headed towards them to open them up. They rustled upwards as he pulled the thin cord, letting in the bright sunlight from outside and illuminating the tiny dust motes that floated in the air.

There was no sign of Itachi, or even his artistic friend. The hulking mass of a clay spider crab, missing a few legs and obviously still very much a work in progress, sat on one of the large worktops on the far side of the room. Big lumps of sandy clay sat beside it, drying in the warm stuffy air.

Sasuke shuffled awkwardly on his feet, trailing a hand across one of the tables in the middle of the room, feeling his fingers brushing through fine dust and over hard plastic drops of dried paint. Itachi's canvases lined the right hand side of the room, and he approached them to look at them closer.

The red and black paintings were imposing, surreal – and even though his knowledge of art was limited, he had a feeling that the paintings were similar to the surrealist paintings he'd seen in books by Dali and Magritte. They were eerie, and Sasuke found himself turning away from them. As he turned to head back towards the door, a small painting caught his eye – one which he hadn't spotted before. It was only a small canvas, roughly the size of his torso, propped up on an easel in the corner of the room by the window. Oddly, the painting seemed different to its surrounding works of art – and as Sasuke neared it, he wondered if it was one of Itachi's works at all.

The painting was pale blue, almost icy, and Sasuke could see faint hints of sweeping orange hinting at the shapes of large koi fish. It was a picture of a river, or a pond, he thought to himself. The orange paint glistened in the sunlight, still wet and fresh. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch the paint with his fingertip.

He didn't know why, but the new painting seemed… different to him.

Almost as if he'd seen the picture before.

'Sorry I'm late,' a voice came from the doorway behind him, and Sasuke jumped, surprised.

Itachi closed the door behind him with his foot, arms full as he carried in two boxes, one tucked under each arm. He walked over to one of the tables in the middle of the room and placed the boxes down carefully. His smart shoes clicked gently on the studio floor as he walked.

'The canteen was so busy – I had to queue for ages to get us some lunch.' He looked up at Sasuke who was standing hesitantly at the head of the table, and pushed one of the boxes towards him. It slid gently across the tabletop, and Sasuke reached out for it.

'You didn't need to get me anything – I could've just gotten something from the vending machine,' he said, tempted to shove the box back down the table towards Itachi and his smirking face.

'I don't know about you,' Itachi said carefully as he dragged one of the high metal stools up to the table and sat down, prising the lid off of his bento box, 'but I'd get pretty bored of having canned coffee and instant noodles every day.' Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out two pairs of red chopsticks. One of these pairs were slid along to Sasuke, who caught them before they fell off the tabletop. He felt himself bristle at the remark.

'I don't eat that badly – besides, why would you care?' He muttered, reluctantly opening the lacquered top of the bento box. He didn't dare mention anything about how his last few meals had only consisted of curry-bread and milk tea, followed by a pack of pretzel sticks or gummy candies. Across from him, Itachi tore the plastic wrapper from his chopsticks with his teeth, shrugging in reply. 'You're young and you're a student, I thought eating badly came with the territory.'

Sasuke ignored the remark and sat down on one of the stools, preparing himself for one of the canteen's budget bento meals – probably filled with tough prawns, luke-warm miso soup and cold rice. However, as the lid popped free from the heavy wooden box, he was surprised to feel hot steam waft up onto his cheeks.

Grilled eel fillets on hot sticky rice with a miso and soy glaze filled the room with a delicious savoury smell. Sasuke found his mouth watering. Along with the main, there was a small pot of burning hot miso soup, and even a side salad of chopped tomatoes and pickled vegetables. This sort of meal couldn't have been cheap – but what bothered Sasuke more was the fact that the bento contained all of his favourite foods.

He looked at Itachi, already eating his own bento – which looked like thin strips of beef teriyaki over hot rice.

'How did you know I liked grilled eel and tomato salad?' He asked, eyes narrowing. Itachi finished his mouthful and slowly took a drink from a bottle of chilled green tea which he pulled from his bag.

'Lucky guess,' he said, pointing his chopsticks at Sasuke's bento as he gestured at the steaming food.

'Hurry up before it gets cold.'

Sasuke tutted at the reply, but opened up his own chopsticks and picked up a large piece of eel anyway. He popped the hot mouthful between his lips, savouring the delicious taste of the meaty fish with the salty and sweet glaze, sticking to the roof of his mouth. It was delicious, and he couldn't help but close his eyes and enjoy the moment. Living as a student on his limited budget, it was so much quicker and easier to just grab something from the vending machines or a basic meal from the canteen. Whenever his mother emailed him to check up on him and ask him if he was eating well – he would lie and tell her he was cooking fresh food every night. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, after all.

Still, Sasuke couldn't help but enjoy the delicious bento box. It had been a while since he'd had hot, fresh food – and when he considered the warm cup noodle he'd had for dinner the night before, the two just didn't even begin to compare.

His skin prickled slightly, and he snapped back to reality – looking up to see Itachi watching him from over the top of his miso soup cup as he drank. His dark eyes were fixated on him, and Sasuke felt anger flush into his cheeks.

'What?'

Itachi smiled softly, sipping on the miso. 'Nothing.'

'Then quit staring at me,' he replied hotly, spearing a piece of eel as he ate another mouthful, avoiding Itachi's gaze.

'I'm not staring,' Itachi said, and Sasuke could hear the smirk in his voice. 'I was just thinking you must be feeling a bit better after last night. I doubt you would've been able to keep down a meal like this in the state you were in.'

Hot embarrassment coiled in his stomach, remembering how he'd thrown up literally at Itachi's feet after the potent mix of shots, beers and whisky. Outside the art studio, crows were landing in the trees. Their black wings knocked the drying leaves from the branches, and Sasuke watched through the window as they fell down in arching curves to settle on the ground.

'I am feeling better, thanks so much for your concern' he muttered sarcastically, chewing down on another mouthful of tender eel as he reached for his bowl of soup, ignoring how Itachi was shaking his head and smiling. He didn't know why Itachi always felt the need to be so smug all the time – it was infuriating. Still, he couldn't deny that having Itachi's eyes on him, even briefly, made a warm heat spread throughout his body. For some reason, being in Itachi's presence seemed to magnify everything – he was acutely aware of the way Itachi was sitting, one leg crossed elegantly over the other; the way his fingertips were holding his chopsticks; the way his nails were still painted an odd, dark purple. His dark t-shirt had an obscure band name in faded print across the front, and his jeans were splattered faintly with bright drops of pale blue paint. There was even a drop of dried paint on his forearm.

'Oh,' Sasuke finished the last mouthful of his soup and placed the empty bowl down, rummaging for the leather jacket which sat at his feet along with his bag. He picked up the soft leather and leaned over the table slightly, offering it to Itachi.

'Thanks for lending it to me.'

Itachi leant over too, meeting Sasuke halfway in the middle of the table as he reached for the jacket. As he took it, Sasuke felt their fingertips brush. He hurriedly pulled his hand away, but couldn't help but notice that Itachi's fingers were cold. A delicate shiver ran down his spine.

'Don't mention it,' Itachi said, as he folded up the jacket into a bundle of leather and tucked it into his bag. 'Next time you're out in a storm, though, I'd suggest taking an umbrella. You're no good to anyone if you're stuck in bed with the flu – least of all your kendo team.'

Sasuke flinched at the sudden reprimand, ready to bite back with an angry reply – but Itachi's tone stopped him. He was speaking the truth, after all. If he'd gotten sick or caught a cold, Neji would've killed him. How would they have taken on Sunagakure if the team captain was stuck in bed with a fever? He owed it to his teammates to take better care of himself.

He prodded his tomato salad with his chopsticks, picking up a piece of pickled cucumber. It crunched between his teeth, and the sound in the quiet art studio seemed almost deafening to his own ears. There was silence between them both for a few minutes, until Itachi spoke.

'You know, I used to have bento boxes just like this when I was growing up,' he said, as he finished the last mouthful of his rice and replaced the empty box with its lacquered lid. 'My uncle used to make them for me when I was living in Kyoto with him.'

Sasuke was surprised at the sudden change of conversation, and not knowing much about Itachi, he found himself listening closely. Knowing how cagey Itachi seemed to be about talking about himself, he knew he had to tread carefully if he wanted to know more about him.

'Did you have simmered tofu? I've heard it's a Kyoto specialty.'

Itachi nodded. 'My uncle was a great cook. He used to make simmered tofu and huge Obanzi meals for his friends. They'd sit in the old tea house at the back of the property and eat and drink for hours.'

'Wait, your uncle had a _tea house_? How big was this place anyway?' Sasuke asked, astonished. He'd heard of some older properties in Tokyo having their own private rooms for tea ceremonies – although he was certain that the ancient tradition was little more  than a tourist fad now. Did houses in Kyoto still have their own tea ceremony rooms like in the olden days? He found it hard to believe.

'Of course. My uncle lives in a large complex, so he had plenty of space for me to stay and live with him when I was younger. The tea house was used mainly for parties and business meetings, but I would sneak out to draw and sketch there sometimes. When I first arrived, I thought I'd gone back in time to one of the old palaces in the Edo era – you know the type, huge wooden walkways, footbridges, old sliding doors – that sort of place.'

'And that's where you learnt kendo? When you were staying with your uncle?'

Itachi nodded. 'He was a good teacher, even if his techniques were slightly unorthodox.'

Sasuke frowned, curious. 'Unorthodox?' He asked, thinking of his own practice techniques. 'In what way?'

Itachi paused, licked his finger, and rubbed at a smudge of charcoal on his hand. The black mark smeared to ashen grey before fading from his pale skin. He examined his hands for any more marks as he continued.

'I'm guessing you get pretty cold winters here in Sapporo, but down in Kyoto the winters can get pretty bad too. There's always lots of snowfall in the winter, but in my uncle's complex the snow would often cover the walkways and gardens. My uncle would make me clear the snow from the bridges and walkways barefoot, and when I was finished I would have to clear the gardens and rake the gravel.'

Sasuke's eyes widened slightly as he imagined the biting pain of the ice and snow on his bare feet; the sharp ragged edges of the gravel. 'You did all that without shoes? That's insane.'

Itachi smiled and shrugged. 'Insane or not, it did the job. When we next practiced, my feet were quicker – I could feel the shift in the floorboards, the presence of another person's weight. I became tougher, able to practice for hours on end without blistering my feet or hands. Whenever it rained, I'd be made to practice out in the gardens until my hands were numb and I could no longer hold my shinai.'

Sasuke shook his head in disbelief. 'But why go to so much effort? Why push yourself to that extent?'

Reaching over for Sasuke's empty box and chopsticks, he stacked their lunchboxes together on the table. His dark hair was falling loose from its ponytail, and Sasuke watched as stray strands of long hair fell across his face. Itachi brushed them aside, tucking them behind his ear.

'Sometimes to become the best at something, you have to push yourself past your own boundaries. To get what you want, you sometimes have to do crazy things to reach your goal. My uncle understood that.'

Standing up from the table, Itachi stretched and rubbed at his wrists. Looking at Sasuke, he approached him in two easy strides.

Sasuke flinched as the man's cold fingers reached out and held onto his chin. He balked, surprised, trying to move back, but Itachi held him firmly in place.

'Stay still,' he said quietly, as if concentrating. Sasuke narrowed his eyes and moved to slap away his hand, but was stopped at the feeling of Itachi's thumb gently moving across his bottom lip, pushing against his mouth from one corner to the other before pulling away.

He watched as Itachi sucked the sweet miso glaze from the side of his thumb, dark eyes burning into his own and stirring some strange heat deep within his bloodstream.

'You missed a spot.'

Instinctively Sasuke wiped the back of his hand against his mouth, trying hard to ignore the way Itachi was smiling at him. His smile was wicked – devilish – and he wondered if he looked at Itachi for too long he might get caught up in some kind of spell.

Itachi walked over to his canvases, stopping to pause in front of the smaller painting with its orange koi fish and pale blue water.

'Have you ever been to Kyoto?' He asked, looking at the painting carefully.

'No, asides from some family trips to just outside Tokyo and studying here, this is all the travelling I've done.' Sasuke replied, wishing he could say that he'd been to Europe or America – somewhere exotic. He watched as Itachi picked up a small paintbrush, wet with water, and placed the tip between his teeth. He wasn't even looking at Sasuke when he spoke.

'Would you like to go with me?'

Sasuke nearly slipped from his stool.

'G…Go? Go where?'

'Kyoto of course. I'm going back on Friday to spend the weekend – I've left some materials and some textbooks back at my uncle's place, so I was planning to head back and pick them up. We'd be back in time for lectures on Monday.'

Sasuke wondered if he was hearing him correctly. Did he just invite him to Kyoto? For a weekend? He'd never been far out of Tokyo – let alone visited the old capital. He'd often planned with Naruto to visit for a long city break, but they'd never gotten around to sorting anything out. Student budgets had normally made quick work of any of their holiday plans.

'You don't need to worry about money,' Itachi said as if reading his mind, painting in the bright orange fin on one of the koi fish. 'My uncle can foot any of your bills for the time being. You can have a room in the complex too.'

Sasuke's heart was racing. He tried to imagine it – staying in a huge complex with Itachi and his uncle, a massive housing complex with its own tea house and gardens. He'd only seen pictures of such buildings in old books. He was sure Itachi had mentioned training in a dojo – maybe the house had its own private training building?

'It'd be cool to see where you trained,' he said carefully, tracing a deep scratch on the old wooden table with his finger. 'I'll come with you if you promise to keep your end of the bargain – you said you'd train me some more, remember? I've kept my part of the bargain, so you need to keep yours.'

Itachi turned away from his painting and smiled over his shoulder at Sasuke, dark eyes catching the sunlight and glinting.

'I promise. The house is perfect for training – don't worry, I won't go back on my word.'

He swirled the paintbrush in a small jar of water by his side, and Sasuke watched as the water turned a pale orange, spiralling round and round inside the jar with the clinking of the brush on the glass. Outside, the crows were taking flight, cawing noisily at one another as they took to the sky in a rustle of feathers and drying leaves.

Itachi cast a glance at his wristwatch. 'You'd better get going,' he said, as he deliberated over two types of yellow paint on a large plastic palette. 'Don't you have another lecture to get to this afternoon?'

Startled, Sasuke pulled his phone from his bag and checked the time. He'd been sitting in the art studio for almost an hour and a half. How had time gone so quickly? His next seminar was due to start in ten minutes, and was back over the other side of the campus. He jumped down off the stool and shoved his phone back into his bag. It was only when his fingers brushed the edge of the book that he remembered what he had brought from the library.

'Here,' he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder as he walked up to Itachi, brandishing the heavy book in front of him like a barricade. 'I saw it in the library and thought you might like it. I don't even know if it's your thing, but I thought…' His voice trailed off awkwardly, and he swore lightly under his breath as he felt himself getting oddly flustered. What the hell was wrong with him?

Raising his eyebrows, Itachi placed his paintbrush behind one ear and took the heavy book from him. His painted nails ghosted over the front cover, and he examined the title in its faded calligraphy.

'Like I said, I don't even know if it's something you're interested in, so feel free to hand it back in whenever you want – '

'This is amazing,' Itachi said softly, interrupting him. 'First edition…?'

Sasuke shrugged. 'I guess so. The library assistant seemed pretty excited about it…'

'They had good reason to be,' Itachi smiled, opening the book and flicking through the first few pages. The book smelt dusty, old, and for a moment Sasuke was transported back to the small bookstores he used to visit with his mother on the outskirts of town when he was a kid.

'I'll be sure to read this as soon as I'm finished here,' Itachi said, looking up at Sasuke as he closed the book firmly shut. 'Thank you.'

Sasuke blushed and waved his hand nonchalantly. 'I'd better get going,' he said as he tried to calmly ignore the prickling heat in his cheeks. Itachi's smile and his sincerity made his knees feel weak, and he forced himself to walk quickly to the door before he embarrassed himself any further.

'Sasuke,' Itachi called after him as he opened the studio door, preparing to step out into the gloomy corridor. Students were bustling past, heading off to their studio spaces as lunchtime came to an inevitable end. Sasuke pasued, turning back to see Itachi standing there, paintbrush behind his ear, book held tightly in one hand.

'Meet me at the University entrance at 8am on Friday morning. I'll have a car waiting.'

Sasuke nodded, stepped into the corridor, and let the door shut behind him.

Students pushed past him, jostling him and apologising as they headed towards their rooms, but Sasuke found himself unable to move out of their way. For a moment he just stood there, leaning against the closed door.

'What am I doing…' he muttered to himself, pushing a hand through his hair. A whole weekend spent with Itachi, in some neighbourhood he didn't know… what could possibly go wrong?

He groaned and pushed himself up from the door, wondering what he was going to say to Naruto when he disappeared for the weekend.

'Well, looks like you're going to be late for your seminar,' he said to himself as he quickly made his way out of the art building.

As he ran back towards the main campus, Sasuke thought that being late for a lecture was all of a sudden the least of his worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying the story so far - and a huge thank you to those who are leaving kudos! It means a lot! x


	6. Chapter 6

The days leading up to Friday morning seemed to go by in a blur.

' _Meet me at the University entrance at 8am on Friday morning.'_

It was 7am, Friday, and Sasuke was standing in his bedroom looking at the small duffel bag on his bedroom floor. It was unzipped; a dishevelled pile of clothes lay beside it, thrown haphazardly together. T-shirts, jackets, jeans, underwear. He must've changed his mind about his choice of clothes four times already.

He sighed and sat down heavily on the end of his bed, staring at the bag on his floor and the mess surrounding it. He had under an hour to get to the campus entrance, and he hadn't even packed or had breakfast.

'Shit,' he muttered, pushing himself back up onto his feet and grabbing his toothbrush from his bedside table. He threw it into the bag where it landed with a muffled thump. His hair was still damp from the quick shower he'd taken half an hour before, and he pushed a hand through it, flicking the water droplets from his fingers onto his duvet.

Less than an hour.

His stomach gave a painful rumble in protest. A quick glance around his messy room didn't help – the remains of his last cup ramen sat on his desk from yesterday evening, along with a half-empty bottle of sweet milk tea. He reached for it anyway, unscrewing the cap and swigging the cold tea down in three sugary mouthfuls.

He nudged the pile of clothes on the floor with his foot, unsure of what to pack. He couldn't believe he was stressing out so much over clothes, of all things. The memory of Itachi sitting on the fountain wall, with his dark reflective sunglasses and jeans faded at the knee, soft leather jacket tucked under one arm, made his hungry stomach due an unusual flip. The nerves were almost making him feel sick, and that thought alone infuriated him.

Defiantly, he reached forward and grabbed two band shirts from the floor, not even caring which ones he picked. A pair of black jeans followed suit, along with a handful of socks and underwear and his deodorant stick. He stuffed them into the duffel bag, hesitating for a moment before he threw in a bottle of aftershave. He remembered how Itachi's jacket had smelt of cologne – a sort of heady, woody mix that seemed to ooze sophistication.

Less than half an hour.

'What else, what else…' He scanned the room, picking up the heavily dog-eared copy of his Murakami novel off his desktop, along with the biro he was using as a make-shift bookmark. They joined his clothes in the bag, along with a small spiral-bound notebook he had been using for his essay notes. His phone, fully charged, went into his pocket, followed by his passport and wallet. He knew Itachi had said that the money-side of things was going to be taken care of by his uncle, but he'd decided to withdraw a few thousand yen from the campus ATM anyway. If his mother had taught him anything, it was to be polite.

He zipped the bag shut, tugging firmly on the zipper to make sure the bag stayed closed. Grabbing his keys and coat from the back of his door, he toed on his shoes in a hurry, pushing his arms through the heavy sleeves on his woollen coat as he fumbled for the door handle.

Opening the door onto the corridor, Sasuke cautiously stuck his head out and looked down the hallway. There was nobody in sight – at almost 8am, it was far too early for the majority of students to be awake. It was still dark, and only the old halogen lights fixed into the ceiling and stairwells lit the corridor. He quietly shut his bedroom door behind him, locking it firmly and wincing as the keys rattled. He stuffed them into his pocket, grabbing his bag with one hand as he made his way down the stairwell.

The common room was eerily quiet. Only the two large vending machines in the entrance made any noise, humming quietly with electricity. Fishing in his pocket for some coins, he quickly pushed the buttons for a miso soup, ignoring how his stomach was craving a full breakfast of rice and mackerel fillets from the canteen. He was fairly sure that he could grab some food from the airport anyway – or even order something on the plane. The idea that he would be on a plane bound for Kyoto in only a few hours made him feel oddly giddy with excitement, and when he reached for his cup of soup deposited from the vending machine, he was surprised to find his hands shaking slightly.

Taking a sip and swearing quietly under his breath as the boiling liquid hit his lips and tongue, he quickly headed out of the dormitory. The early morning air was cold, fresh, and the steam rising from his soup curled up into the dark sky in wispy grey tendrils. The campus entrance was only a few minutes away from his dorm, and he followed the concrete pathways leading over to the main building in silence, sipping burning mouthfuls of the salty soup as he walked.

He couldn't deny that his heart was racing. He wondered if he was actually dreaming – surely he wasn't really about to go on a cross-country trip to Kyoto with a guy he'd only known since the start of term? His mother would be worried sick about him if she knew. He wouldn't even be able to tell her who Itachi was – he could count the things he knew about him on one hand. He was an artist, had been professionally trained in Kendo, studied at Akatsuki Daigaku, and had grown up in Kyoto with his uncle. That was it – that was all he really knew.

And yet, there was something. Just _something_.

Sasuke didn't believe in the idea of love at first sight, or any of those sappy romantic clichés so often favoured by poets and writers. He didn't get the idea of falling for someone – falling so hard that they became your reason for living, for existing. However, there was something about Itachi that seemed to draw Sasuke in. A strange sort of magnetism. Something that went far deeper than any rules of attraction he had experienced before.

No other person could infuriate him or spark his anger like Itachi could.

No other person could persuade him into a weekend trip almost a thousand miles away.

He took another sip on the soup, watching as the main university building came into view as he rounded a corner. The lamplights lining the path glowed orange, lighting the way. The cup was hot in his hand, warming his fingers against the chill of the morning air.

As the main building came ever closer, Sasuke felt his heart skip a beat. The bag in his left hand felt oddly heavy, and he tightened his grip on the fabric handle. Following the path that forked off to the right, Sasuke walked around the large imposing building, heading towards the fountain and the staff car park.

The sky was just beginning to lighten now, and over to the East Sasuke could just make out the faint glow of the sun rising above the tree tops, staining the sky with a myriad of orange and reds.

Itachi was waiting for him by the fountain, as promised.

As Sasuke approached, he nervously fiddled with the duffel bag handle, tossing the empty cup of his miso soup into a nearby trash can as he walked up to Itachi. The rising sunlight reflected off the moving water of the fountain, momentarily setting the water alight, a fountain of fire.

'Good morning.'

Itachi smiled, raising a hand in greeting. The thick grey scarf around his neck bunched up softly under his chin, the ends hanging down loosely into his lap. Behind him, the fountain burnt orange like flames.

'Morning,' Sasuke replied, subconsciously gripping his bag tight as he pushed his other hand deep into his coat pocket. Itachi slid down off the fountain wall, crouching down to pick up his own bag at his feet. He was wearing the leather jacket again, and Sasuke was keenly aware of the way the fabric creased at the elbows as Itachi moved.

'Shall we go?' He gestured towards a car which was waiting in the pick-up zone to their left, the engine rumbling softly. 'The car's here already. Have you got everything? Passport, phone?'

Sasuke nodded, thumbing the edge of his passport reassuringly in his pocket.

The engine continued its slow, purring rumble in the distance. Somewhere, hidden amongst the orange leaves of the treetops on the boulevard, crows began to squabble and caw. Sasuke thought he saw movement amongst the leaves, glossy feathers as dark as engine oil.

Itachi beckoned him towards the car, walking over to its glistening black passenger door. The windows were tinted slightly, Sasuke noticed, and he couldn't see the driver behind the wheel. Itachi gestured with his head, nodding towards the open door which he held open for Sasuke to climb into. Casting a quick glance up at the empty University, now bathed in the warm golden sunlight of the rising sun, Sasuke stepped into the dark vehicle, feeling the engine rumble beneath his feet as he stepped in, pulling his bag in behind him. Itachi made sure he was in before he shut the door firmly, rapping his knuckles gently on the window as he stepped around the car to the other side. Sasuke thought he saw him lean down briefly, motioning something to the driver on the other side of the car, before he opened his door and followed Sasuke in.

Sasuke twisted the braided fabric handle between his fingertips until his skin felt hot and sore. The nerves in his stomach were fluttering wildly, and he jumped when the car was shifted into first gear and began to move away from the waiting bay.

'Hey,' Itachi said, reaching across the small middle seat between them and nudging him in the thigh with his knuckles.

'You feeling ok?'

Sasuke nodded, unable to hold Itachi's gaze as he looked at him, dark eyes filled with concern. Against his pale skin and grey scarf, his dark hair and red lips seemed at an odd contrast. Oddly feminine. His lips were damp, Sasuke noticed. The pressure of his knuckles gently resting against his leg felt strangely heavy, and he moved slightly in his seat, nervous at their proximity.

 _Don't look at me like that_ , he found himself wanting to say, nervously looking away from the man beside him and out of the window instead. The car was moving fast now, and the autumn trees that lined the road leading to the University blurred in a haze of yellow and orange.

'It'll take about an hour to get to the airport,' Itachi said from beside him, and Sasuke heard him unzipping the bag at his feet. 'You can sleep until we get there if you'd like.'

Sasuke didn't reply. Watching out of the window, he felt his eyes drawn to the change of the scenery. They followed the road away from the campus, passing by the signs and road markers pointing at the University behind them. Through gaps in the buildings and streets, bright morning sunlight burned into his retinas, making him blink away dark spots in his vision. The dense urban streets of Sapporo quickly surrounded them as they drove, heading through the city to the airport on its furthest side.

He looked over to Itachi, wanting to ask him how long the flight was to Kyoto, but the older man was resting up against the window, eyes closed shut, listening to an iPod which rested in his lap. His scarf was tugged up around his mouth, hiding half of his face from view.

Turning back to the window, Sasuke closed his eyes. His forehead pressed up against the cold glass, and the rumble of the car and the gentle movement coaxed him all too easily into sleep.

Beside him, Itachi paused his iPod and opened his eyes. He watched as the boy to his left shuffled against the seat, breath forming a small cloud on the window pane as he tried to get comfy in his sleep. Itachi smiled beneath his scarf and started his music again, closing his own eyes as he waited for them to near the airport.

* * *

Sapporo airport was alive with a bustling hive of noise and activity.

Stumbling from the car in a daze, Sasuke hurried to rub the sleep from his eyes as Itachi gestured for him to follow him, shouldering his bag and pulling his passport from his pocket.

Itachi handed him his flight ticket as they entered the large revolving doors leading into the main building. The acrid smell of jet fuel hung heavy in the air, and Sasuke found himself watching as a huge plane roared above his head, coming in to land just on the runway just on the other side of the building.

'Stay close, alright? I don't want to lose you.'

Itachi reached out and tugged Sasuke after him, pulling him in to the revolving section of the door. Sasuke swallowed nervously, feeling his cheeks prickle with heat at his words and the sudden grip on his wrist. People bustled around them; young women with smart shoes that clicked across the shiny tiled floor, business men in crisp suits smelling of aftershave shouted noisily down their cell phones, bowing their heads as they spoke. Young children giggled and ran across the huge entrance hall, racing each other to the numerous newsagents and convenience stores dotted across the room. High above in the ceiling was a huge sky-light, letting in the morning sun. Children shouted and squealed in excitement as planes soared above them, coming in to land with a roar of noise.

'Come on kiddo,' Itachi's voice came from a little way ahead, and Sasuke jumped, unaware of how he was spacing out at the building's entrance. It had been a few years since he'd travelled from this airport, and even now he found himself slightly taken aback by its immense scale and grandeur. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and hurried to Itachi's side, scowling at the nickname.

'I thought I said don't call me kiddo,' he muttered, sidestepping around a group of toddlers who were sat on their suitcases on the floor, their parents arguing as they tried to find their missing boarding passes. 'It's embarrassing.'

'Keep up with me and stay close like I told you, then,' Itachi replied smoothly, not breaking his stride as he walked down the long concord to the right of the departure lounge. Sasuke followed, feeling like some sort of obedient puppy. Hearing shrill giggles from his right, Sasuke turned and saw a group of school girls. Their matching seifuku stood out amongst the crowds of business men and women, and, noticing he was looking in their direction, they all began to hide their faces in embarrassment, giggling nervously.

'Down this way,' Itachi said, gesturing to gate 15 at the end of the corridor. As they neared the gate, they passed easily through the quick security check. Sasuke went through first, throwing his bag into the plastic tray as it was pushed through the scanner. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets as he stepped through the security barrier, finding himself oddly bracing for the beep even though he knew he had nothing suspicious on him. The barrier remained silent, and a stone-faced security guard handed his bag back to him. Waiting by the side, he watched as Itachi took his turn, placing his bag into the tray. Stepping through the barrier, Sasuke was surprised to hear the security alarm ring as Itachi stepped through. He watched, intrigued, as a security guard approached him.

There was an exchange of words, and Sasuke watched as Itachi unravelled the long scarf from around his neck before reaching behind his ponytail. He pulled free a thin metal necklace of some sort which he showed to the security guard. Giving him a nod, the security waved him through, and he pocketed the necklace into his leather jacket.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow as he neared him.

'I didn't take you for the jewellery-wearing kind,' he said, waiting as Itachi began to wind the scarf around his neck once more. 'Any piercings or anything else you're hiding?'

Itachi shrugged.

'That's for me to know and you to find out,' he said, smiling at the look of bewilderment on Sasuke's face as his cheeks flushed hot and red. 'Come on, we've got a plane to catch.'

Sasuke wished he could have come up with some sort of biting rebuttal, but he felt flustered and embarrassed at Itachi's forwardness. He could only follow him through the crowds towards their gate, where the electronic sign read 'Sapporo – Kyoto' in red kanji. The nerves built in his stomach as he followed Itachi to the desk, where they had their boarding passes scanned and stamped, before they headed down the plastic tunnel – following the sloping ramp down into the body of the plane.

Two stewardesses stood at the end of the tunnel, ushering them on with red-lipstick smiles. 'Welcome aboard! Please store your bags in the overhead lockers and take your seats!'

Sasuke thought they sounded oddly robotic, as if they had rehearsed their words hundreds of thousands of times. Perhaps they had.

The plane's engine hummed long and loud, droning, a deep buzz which settled into the narrow spaces in Sasuke's eardrums.

He followed Itachi's leather-clad back down the narrow aisle, passing rows and rows of identical seats slowly filling with people. Eventually, they found their seats.

'I thought you'd like the window seat,' Itachi said as he hoisted his bag up and over his head into the locker above them. 'Here, throw me your bag.'

Sasuke handed it over and sat down in the assigned seat. Through the tiny oval window he could just make out the wing of the plane to his left. A flutter of nerves coursed through him, and he fidgeted slightly, playing with the lap belt which he pulled tightly around his waist and clicked firmly into position. Tight.

'Has it been a while since you've flown?' Itachi asked as he took the seat beside him, unwinding the dark scarf from around his neck. Sasuke shrugged. 'The last time I flew was when I moved here from Tokyo – so yeah, I guess it's been just over a year. I've never been... great at flying,' he added quietly, embarrassed.

'You'll be wanting a drink then,' Itachi said, motioning to one of the stewardesses who was passing down the aisle.

Moments later, Sasuke found himself being presented with a cold tumbler of whisky and coke.

'It's only half 9,' Sasuke muttered, taking the cold glass from Itachi's hand.

'It'll steady your nerves,' Itachi said, taking a mouthful of his own whisky. 'Down it before we take off though, I don't want you spilling it everywhere.'

Sasuke shot him a glare and swallowed back the heady mix of whisky and sweet, syrupy cola, trying to ignore how his head protested at drinking so early on in the morning. His mother would've killed him – although when he thought about it, his mother would've probably already killed him for heading off to another part of Japan with someone he'd only really just met.

The alcohol settled warmly in his body, and as the stewardesses began to make their final checks of the passengers and the plane, Sasuke rested his head back into the chair. The early morning alarm was catching up with him, and he could feel himself getting drowsy. He found himself looking out the small window as the plane began to move, listening to the pilot's voice through the intercom system as he announced his name, the weather outside, and the speed of the wind. A perfect day for flying, he said with a rehearsed sort of confidence.

Sasuke watched as the plane wing to his left adjusted and tilted slightly, back and forth, before the plane slowed to a halt. The runway stretched before them, a level tarmac road with no end. His stomach tightened at the sound of the engines roaring to life beneath his feet, and he jumped when Itachi reached over and nudged him.

'Don't worry,' he smiled, reaching out and taking hold of one of Sasuke's cold hands in his own. He held his hand tight and rubbed a thumb over his white knuckles. 'The flight will be over before you know it.'

The plane began to rush forward along the runway, gathering speed and vibrating powerfully. The roaring engines dulled to a low rumble as the wheels left the ground, the body of the plane tilting upwards in a sickening arch. Strangely, Sasuke barely registered the take-off. Watching Itachi's thumb moving across his knuckles was almost hypnotic – and he found that although his heart was beating painfully in his chest, it had nothing to do with the nerves of the flight.

As the plane lifted out of its arching curve and settled to fly straight, Sasuke cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, tucking both safely in his lap. He forced himself to look out of the window, the airport now hundreds of feet below them, hidden by a blanket of thick white clouds and searing blue sky.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Itachi reach into his pocket for his music player and headphones. Closing his eyes, Sasuke rested his head back against the rough seat, and allowed the bright sunlight to burn like orange embers into his closed eyelids.

* * *

The car was waiting for them just outside of Kyoto's main terminal.

Shimmering in the early afternoon sunlight, the black sports car caught the eyes of the crowds queueing for their taxis and bus shuttles. As they approached, Sasuke even saw some people whip out their phones to discreetly take a quick photo.

' _This_ is our ride?' Sasuke asked as he shouldered his bag, tucking his hands nervously into his pockets. He relished in the feeling of his legs stretching out as he walked; the two hour flight had sent the majority of his muscles to sleep, and he felt happy to finally leave the plane seats behind. He clicked his neck to one side, noticing how people were turning to look in their direction as they approached the car. The windows were blacked out, and Sasuke only caught a brief glimpse of the driver as Itachi ushered him towards the passenger door.

'It's my uncle's,' Itachi replied, opening the door and throwing his bag into the seat. 'He said he'd send one of his cars to pick us up.'

Sasuke lowered himself down into the car, his jeans sliding on the soft leather seats, black, matching the car's exterior. The driver was sectioned off by a small partition, similar to the car that had picked them up from the University. Itachi's family seemed to travel in style.

'Wait, _one_ of his cars?' Sasuke couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. Itachi slid in beside him, and shut the door on the crowds of people clamouring for a look at the stylish ride – sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the drab buses and taxis. 'You mean he has more of these?'

'I think he's got a few Porsches now,' Itachi replied offhandedly, as he fastened his seatbelt and unwound the thick scarf from around his neck. He spoke as if a few Porsches was nothing out of the ordinary – but Sasuke found his curiosity piqued.

'What does your uncle do for a living?' He asked, watching through the darkened windows as the car moved away from the bustling airport, following the smooth road which passed by the airport car parks, filled to the brim with rows and rows of cars, their roofs shining like multi-coloured beetle shells in the sunlight.

'He's been involved in lots of corporate business, you know, selling and buying for various companies.'

Sasuke didn't find himself feeling very satisfied with Itachi's answer. He wondered why Itachi seemed to be so vague whenever he asked him about his family – but he decided to let it go. He'd ask him another time – and anyway, he'd probably be meeting Itachi's uncle in only a matter of hours. If he wanted to, he could ask him himself. Maybe he could ask him more about Itachi – about his upbringing, and the reason why he grew up in Kyoto.

Outside of the airport, the tall skyscrapers and apartment blocks of Kyoto's city shadowed the roads, looming so high that Sasuke couldn't make out the tops as they rushed past, following the red tail lights of the traffic ahead.

They quickly left the concrete suburbs of the new Kyoto, following back roads through quiet streets, leaving the bustling traffic behind as they made their way out of the city. Soon enough the car was racing along a dual carriageway lined with autumnal trees. Even through the tinted windows, Sasuke could make out the few green leaves still on the canopies, blurring in a haze with the burnt orange tips and yellow undersides. The gentle movement of the car made him feel sleepy, and he decided to close his eyes for a moment.

'Look, over there on the right.'

Sasuke jumped at the sudden feel of Itachi's breath, warm against the skin of his neck as he spoke. He was leaning in close to point to something out of Sasuke's window. He stirred in his seat, rubbing his eyes as he hastened to look towards whatever Itachi was trying to point out.

'Here,' Itachi said beside him, 'wind the window down a bit.' He reached across Sasuke and pushed down on a button on the door's side. Immediately the fresh air, cool and distinctly autumnal, struck Sasuke's face. He blinked, raising a hand to his eyes to block out the sudden sharp, glittering sunlight in the distance.

'That's Lake Biwa. Do you see it in the distance?'

Sasuke nodded, watching in awe as the enormous lake eased into view as they drove. The sun struck its rippling surface, creating what could have been a thousand individual diamonds – the sun shattering into sharp jagged pieces which glittered furiously on top of the water.

'It… looks like the ocean,' Sasuke said quietly, watching as the lake disappeared from sight as they rounded a steep corner, driving through the beginnings of what seemed to be a dense forest.

'When I was younger I used to swim there,' Itachi said thoughtfully, pushing the window back up with a gentle hum. 'Maybe we could drive down to the shore sometime.'

Sasuke nodded, feeling a small pang of excitement and nerves build deep in his stomach. Around them the forestry was growing thicker, lusher, and when a flash of bright red caught his eye, Sasuke turned to see a large Tori shrine, partially hidden by the trees. He wondered who worshipped there, and what God was lying in wait at the shrine gate, buried so deep in the forest.

'We're almost here now,' Itachi said, as the steep road through the forest began to level out. They continued on for a few miles, passing through the forest and rounding a final corner. Here the car began to slow, and Sasuke found himself peering out of the window as it ground to a halt. He could just make out what seemed to be a large wooden boundary – a large gate of some kind, set into a high fencing that stretched out on both sides, disappearing out of sight.

'Is this…'

Itachi smiled, watching the boy's apparent awe as the large mechanical gates opened inward, allowing their car to ease into the large gravelled courtyard.

'Welcome to my home.'

Stepping out of the polished car, Sasuke found himself momentarily stunned. Behind them the large wooden gate closed like a pair of double doors swinging shut, clanging loudly. The gravelled courtyard stretched out before him, leading up to a central building with high sloping roofs. Raised wooden platforms edged the huge building and its numerous out houses, linking them all together with large wooden bridges. A glistening koi pond sat to the far side of the courtyard, and in the distance Sasuke thought he could make out what appeared to be a zen garden.

'This place can't be real…' Sasuke muttered. Itachi was behind him, pulling the last of their bags out of the car. He said a thank you to the driver, patting the roof of the car twice with his hand. Sasuke was barely aware of the car leaving the complex, tyres crunching in the gravel as it headed back towards the large gated entrance.

'I can assure you it is,' Itachi replied, as he pulled a pack of Marlboros and a lighter from his bag. 'My uncle's car isn't here, so I'm guessing he's not back yet.'

'Not back? So you mean it's…'

'Just the two of us.'

Itachi smiled around his cigarette, ignoring the way Sasuke adjusted his grip on his bag handle.

'Come on,' he said, taking a deep suck on his cigarette before throwing it onto the gravel, crunching it satisfyingly into the ground with the toe of his shoe. 'I'll show you around.'

Sasuke followed reluctantly. It wasn't meant to just be the two of them. This place looked huge – almost as big as the imperial palace. If Itachi's uncle was here at least there would be a third person to break the tension – the almost suffocating feeling Sasuke seemed to get whenever he was near Itachi. He found himself swallowing once, hard, pushing the nerves down deeper into his gut as he tried to feign nonchalance. Behind them, the squashed cigarette burned away, its thin smoky tendrils curling up into the blue Kyoto sky.

* * *

To say the complex was huge would have been an understatement.

Stepping into the main building, Sasuke followed Itachi as they both toed off their shoes in the entry hall, leaving them behind them as they walked through the large corridor. The dark wooden floorboards were polished and shined underfoot; huge rice-paper shoji screens diffused shadows across the corridor, separating off large guest rooms from the main walkway. The light filtered through the screens in a dusty way, bathing the corridor in a surreal glow. As they walked, Itachi pointed out the large central stone garden, complete with gentle trickling water features and a small pond. It collected the rain water, he explained, gesturing up to the open ceiling which revealed the blue sky. The tour continued; they passed a huge open-plan kitchen filled with glistening copper pans suspended from the alcoves and a large island for seating – there was even a traditional sunken hearth for cooking, something Sasuke had never seen before; a bathroom with a huge ornate wooden tub for hot soaks; a few more rooms that were closed off to receive guests and important dignitaries.

An enormous wooden staircase spiralled up to the upper floor, and Itachi encouraged him up in order to show him his room for the next few days.

'I know it's only small,' Itachi said, as he crossed the landing, floorboards creaking softly under his feet, 'but hopefully you'll be comfortable here.' He stopped in front of a large shoji screen and pulled it open, letting the door slide to the right to reveal the room within.

The bedroom looked like it might have been plucked out from within the castle at Nagoya. The tatami mats underfoot were soft and impeccably clean – a large plush futon had already been laid out under the low window, letting beautiful sunshine bathe the room in dazzling light. A lacquered dresser, wardrobe and desk shined in the sun, lusciously dark like melted chocolate – and as Sasuke looked, he thought he could make tiny painted herons, white wings bright against the dark cherry-wood.

He was aware of Itachi standing behind him, watching his reactions carefully.

'There's blankets and more pillows in the wardrobe if you need them,' he said, stepping into the room and approaching the window on the far side.

'Even though it's not the biggest, this room has one of the best views. I asked my Uncle to prepare it for you especially.'

Sasuke joined him at the window and looked out. The view was beautiful – from here he could make out the tiled rooftops of the floor below, and could even see the engawa – the huge outdoor corridor which surrounded the complex – stretching out into distance and around the corner. Numerous smaller buildings were connected by bridges, and in the distance Sasuke could make out the green tops of the forest they had driven through on their journey. No other complexes or towns were in sight.

On top of the hill in Kyoto, surrounded by trees, the complex stood on its own – isolated.

'You really grew up here?' Sasuke asked quietly, watching as clouds raced across the sky, occasionally throwing their shadows onto the white gravel below.

Beside him, Itachi nodded.

'Didn't you get lonely?'

The question hang in the air between them, and Sasuke found himself looking at Itachi then, at the dark scarf still wrapped loosely around his neck, exposing the slightest hint of his pale throat; the black leather jacket; the dark jeans creasing softly around his waist.

'My room is next door – so if you need anything, don't hesitate to come and ask. Ok?'

Itachi didn't wait for an answer before he stepped away from the window and headed back towards the shoji screen.

'Come on, you must be hungry right? I'll do us some lunch and then I'll show you our dojo.'

Putting his duffel bag beside the immaculate futon, Sasuke hurried to catch up as Itachi disappeared around the corner and back down the stairs. He slid the shoji behind him, casting a glance to the room next door – shielded by another rice paper screen.

Itachi's room.

His stomach twisted nervously – and for a moment he found himself wondering if he'd ever be able to sleep with Itachi only a few feet away, seperated only by a thin wall and some delicate rice paper.

'You coming kiddo?'

Itachi called from the lower floor, looking expectantly up the stairs. Sasuke hurried to catch up, pushing the odd feeling aside as he instead tried to focus on the excitement of seeing the dojo that Itachi had trained in. His stomach gave a low growl, and he took the stairs two at a time to catch up with the man disappearing off towards the kitchen.

* * *

Sitting on the engawa, their legs hanging down over the edge of the wooden floorboards, Itachi and Sasuke tucked into their lunch. Itachi was not just a great artist and kendo player, it turned out he was a good chef too. Grilled salmon fillets with rice, tofu in a vegetable broth, pickled vegetables with ginger - and hot cups of green tea, steaming in ceramic cups beside them.

Below their feet, the white gravel of the zen garden had been raked perfectly into large, swooping circles. Large chunks of dark granite stood at a stark contrast to the whiteness of the tiny pebbles.

Sasuke cast a glance over to Itachi, sitting to his right.

'Why did you move here?' He asked quietly, placing his empty bowl to the side and picking up his hot cup of tea. The grooves in the ceramic were smooth, the tea piping hot.

'Hm?' Itachi made a noise which suggested he hadn't heard, scraping the last of his salmon and rice up with his chopsticks.

'Why did you decide to come to Kyoto? What made you want to leave your family?'

'It's… kind of a long story,' Itachi replied, and Sasuke couldn't help but notice the careful deliberateness with which he chose his words.

'I've got time.'

'That you do,' Itachi smiled, pushing a hand through his hair that had fallen forward.

High above, a skylark started to sing. The shrill, crisp notes hung on the air.

'There was a disagreement within my family back in Tokyo. My Uncle was thinking about moving from the city to this complex in Kyoto, and when he bought the property and decided to move here, I moved with him. My mother didn't object.'

'What about your dad?' Sasuke asked. 'Didn't he mind you leaving?'

Itachi was quiet for a moment, and Sasuke followed his dark gaze out onto the zen garden. A black crow had landed on one of the large granite slabs and was busily sweeping its beak along its wings.

'My father died before I moved away.'

His words were quiet, and as he spoke, Sasuke felt a chill sweep over his body. The sun had disappeared briefly behind a patch of cloud, and the autumnal breeze had picked up. It was getting cold. Getting to his feet, Sasuke watched as Itachi lifted his legs up from the engawa and stood up, balancing his stack of used bowls and chopsticks in one hand.

'Come on, I still haven't shown you the dojo yet.'

Sasuke moved to stand to his feet, a strange uneasiness settling deep in his stomach which he couldn't ignore.

'My dad… died too,' he said carefully, following Itachi as they headed back to the kitchen. Turning on the hot water tap at the large sink, Itachi paused.

'I'm sorry.'

Sasuke shrugged. 'Don't apologise – I never knew him anyway.' The ceramic bowls clinked gently into the warm bubbling water as they both dropped them in. 'My mother saved a few photos of him for me, but I can't remember him ever being around. I was only little when he passed away – there was a gas leak at the factory he worked at.'

Beside him, Itachi nodded in understanding.

 _Please touch me_.

The thought appeared bright and vivid in his mind, unstoppable. His skin prickled delicately. For some reason, he found himself willing Itachi to reach out - to brush his fingers against his arm.

_Please touch me._

But his silent thoughts went unheard, and Itachi only moved away.

'Come on, I'll show you where we keep all the kendo equipment.'

Itachi's words broke the quietness of the kitchen, and seemed to snap Sasuke out of his thoughts. Embarrassed at the thoughts racing through his mind, he tried desperately to ignore the heat creeping into his cheeks, settling hot on his skin. He hurried once again to catch up to the man who was already disappearing out of sight.

He didn't quite know how he was going to survive the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading, leaving kudos, and leaving kind comments! I'm so glad to hear that people are enjoying the story so far. Next chapter will get a little smuttier... I hope you will stick with me for the next update! Much love x


	7. Chapter 7

 

* * *

_I could fight you till the end,_

_But I will lose you if I win – so I guess I'll just keep on giving in to you,_

_Like I always do,_

_No matter how I try._

* * *

The dojo was huge.

As Sasuke walked in, carrying a heavy shinai and a bundle of leg wraps and wrist guards, he felt the old wooden floorboards creak gently and shift under his weight.

Itachi moved ahead of him, throwing open the wide windows which let the light in to the room. The floors, a dark cherry wood which seemed to be a feature in the complex, were beautifully polished – and for a moment Sasuke swore he could see his own reflection staring back at him, shimmering against the dark wood-grain.

'Put your wraps on,' Itachi said from up ahead, as he finished sliding open the last window. In the furthest corner of the room, Sasuke was surprised to see a large feature wall emerge from the shadows. Painted in ink which seemed to have paled and faded over the years, the mural depicted a large Chinese-style dragon, emerging from thick billowing clouds. Its mouth was painted wide open, baring rows of sharp teeth; its claws clutched at the clouds it tore itself through. He found himself wondering, as he propped the shinai against the wall and began to wind the wraps around his arms and wrists, how many times Itachi had practiced in this same room as a child, always under the piercing eyes of the dragon.

Wrapping the bandages tightly, Sasuke secured each one by winding the fabric end around his thumb. He looked down at his arms, wrapped up to the elbow, flexing against the fabric binds. Itachi had thrown him a pair of loose black training pants along with a black t-shirt when they'd entered the building, instructing him to change in the storage room at the back of the dojo. The wraps on his arms glowed white as bone against his dark clothes, and for a moment Sasuke found himself feeling slightly self-conscious. The training pants Itachi had given him were cropped, and he bent down to tie another pair of wraps around his ankles and shins.

Itachi watched him from across by the window, purposefully neglecting his own wraps as he swung his shinai in a large, testing arc.

'You're not going to wear any?' Sasuke muttered, glancing up at the sound of the bamboo blade swinging sharply through the air. He watched as Itachi tested the blade again in the opposite direction, feeling the weight of the old weapon in his hands.

'I don't need any supports,' he said as he approached Sasuke, fastening the last of his left leg's bandage. 'You, however, do – so make sure they're tight. I don't want to be taking you back to your team in pieces.'

Sasuke felt his anger rise in his throat but forced himself to swallow the hot lump down, along with his biting words of rebuttal.

'Whatever,' he said under his breath as he finished securing the last bandage. 'Let's get on with this.'

He reached for his shinai as he stood up, testing his ankles as he rotated his bare feet. The floorboards were cold underneath him.

'You're going to want to put a helmet on too,' Itachi said, picking up a helmet from his side and offering it to Sasuke.

'Let me guess,' he began as he took the heavy armour, pulling it down firmly over the top of his head. The bars that protected his face made the inside of the helmet hot, and his mouth tasted like copper coins as he breathed against the metal. 'You're not wearing armour either.'

Itachi shook his head and smiled knowingly.

'Come on, stand opposite me.'

Breathing an irritated sigh, Sasuke approached him. Gripping the shinai, he stood with his feet slightly apart, holding the weapon firmly before him in both hands. Under his grip the handle of the weapon felt worn, as if it had been used for weeks on end. The faint wearing grooves on the handle echoed the grip of another's hand, and he found the shinai settle into his grip with unpredictable ease.

Itachi was holding his own shinai before him now, readying his stance. His training pants rose slightly on his hips as he moved, and Sasuke found his eyes darting down to the exposed skin of his shins, the pale skin of his bare arms.

The heavy clash of the bamboo sword striking the side of his helmet made a deafening crack, like a thunderbolt hitting the ground. His teeth rattled at the sudden impact, forcing him to take a surprised, staggering step backwards.

' _Fuck_.'

Sasuke hurriedly swiped his tongue over his teeth, almost anticipating finding a hot, wet gap. His teeth were all in place, the bones smooth and reassuringly hard against the flat of his tongue.

In front of him, Itachi was repositioning his shinai, oblivious to the fact that the sudden strike had almost broken Sasuke's jaw.

'I wasn't ready,' Sasuke spat, gritting his teeth as the sound of the blow continued to ring deep in his ears.

'You should _always_ be ready. Right from the moment you tie the wraps around your hands and feet – right from the moment you step into the dojo. Kendo is as much a state of mind as it is a physical fight.' He pointed his shinai accusingly at the young boy, feeling the embarrassment and biting anger radiate off his body in rippling waves. 'Try again.'

Sasuke barely had time to re-position his feet, feeling the floorboards beneath his toes creak slightly under his weight, before Itachi swung at him again – hard and fast. Lifting his own shinai up quickly to block the blow, Sasuke was just able to deflect the impact of the bamboo blade, giving him enough time to quickly sidestep. His footwork wasn't fast enough though, and Itachi's second rebounding blow clipped his shoulder painfully.

'Not bad. Again.'

Their shinai clashed hard together, forming a perfect cross in the air as Sasuke managed to meet the third blow with his own. The blades rattled loudly together, and the vibrations travelled the length of the wooden handle with strong, shuddering ripples. Itachi's speed was unreal, and after the first few strikes Sasuke found himself breathing hard behind the helmet, tasting sweat against his top lip. Under the darkness of the mask, the sweat could have been syrupy droplets of blood.

They continued moving in tight circles across the dojo, stepping lightly atop the old floor which gently dipped and lifted under their weight. The clattering strength of the weapons made Sasuke's ears ring, and with each movement he found himself tiring, the grip on the shinai slipping. His hair was wet against the back of his neck, and the wraps around his wrists felt damp and itchy.

The sudden adjustment of Itachi's grip on his weapon caught Sasuke's eye, and he forced himself to move quickly. He lifted his shinai up hard, ready to block the incoming attack from Itachi's right. It was only when he noticed Itachi's feet shift slightly to the left that he realised he had left himself open for a feint attack. Itachi's grip changed as he swung the shinai hard to his left, striking Sasuke's throat just below the protection of the helmet.

Sasuke choked, stumbling backwards and onto the floor as the impact of the blade sent him reeling. He coughed hard, almost sure now that he would hear the ceramic-like tinkling of his teeth hitting the metal frame of his helmet.

'You can guarantee that Sungakure's team will use tactics like that to achieve their points,' Itachi said. 'They'll try their best to outwit you, to trick you into defending the wrong side. It's your job to see through these tactics – to anticipate anything.' He approached Sasuke, laying down the offending weapon as he knelt down beside him.

'Here, let me see.'

As Itachi reached out and pulled the heavy helmet from his head, Sasuke found himself avoiding his dark eyes. Hot moisture settled in the corners of his sight, prickling as he struggled to get his breath. His throat smarted in agony, and he was reminded of their first meeting – when Itachi had beaten him so effortlessly infront of everyone watching.

'You're improving,' Itachi said, as if he had read his mind. 'Your speed is picking up, and you're balancing your weight a lot better, like I told you.'

Sasuke winced as cold fingers pushed his chin up, pressing against the painful skin at the base of his throat.

'Nothing's broken,' Itachi said almost approvingly after feeling along the boy's collarbones, running his fingers across the smooth bumps of bone pressing up against the tight skin.

'Let's go again.'

Sasuke took a shaky breath before grabbing his helmet again, tugging it awkwardly back onto his head with one hand before pushing himself back up onto his feet.

They carried on sparring for what felt like days.

Sasuke found himself watching the rays of light on the floor arch around the floorboards as the sun moved across the sky, stretching out their shadows to surreal, alien lengths as the day wore on.

Itachi landed a few more strikes, each one as shatteringly painful as the last – one across his hipbone, one against his outstretched forearm.

The last strike clattered against the side of Sasuke left leg, sending him sprawling to the floor from where he was unable – and unwilling – to get up.

Exhausted, Sasuke simply lay there on his side, pushing his helmet off and letting it slide across the floor with a metallic, heavy thud. Sensing his exhaustion and breathing heavily himself, Itachi sat down beside him, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his hands. Their chests rose and fell in unison, and from his position on the floor Sasuke found himself watching Itachi untie his long hair, wiping a hand against his damp forehead and combing his fingers through the dark tresses. He tied it neatly back into a ponytail, pulling the hair tight against his scalp. His palms had left damp hand prints behind on the floorboards.

'Is your leg hurting?'

The sudden question made Sasuke jump, and before he could answer Itachi was already leaning over him, running a hand over the tight, scuffed wraps against his shinbone. The contact made him blush furiously, but as he tried to pull his legs up against him, Itachi's hand held him firmly in place.

'I'm just going to take the wraps off, alright? Stop freaking out.'

'I'm – I'm not freaking out,' he muttered back, despising the way his voice faltered and cracked slightly at the feeling of Itachi's hands working on the tight bandages. Dejectedly he lay back on the floor and threw an arm over his face, trying to ignore the way his leg burned every time Itachi touched him. His chest still rose and fell with every tight breath, and he felt a bead of sweat run down his hairline to fall, lost, behind the crook of his ear.

'You're going to bruise up nicely,' Itachi sighed, tossing the used wraps to one side as he examined the reddening skin on Sasuke's leg. 'We've got water from the hot-springs on the far side of the mountain, so you can take a bath later.'

Sasuke was hardly aware of Itachi's words. Instead, he was acutely focused on the way Itachi's hand was resting up against his thigh, his knuckles gently pushing up against the thin fabric of his training pants. His heart gave an unexpected, painful thump beneath his ribs.

'Let me see your neck,' Itachi was saying, leaning closer as he gently coaxed Sasuke's chin up, moving his arm away from his face to look at the bruise that blossomed there. He pressed two fingers into the bruise, watching the boy's reaction as he tried to hold back a wince.

His fingers were cold, Sasuke noticed, and a shiver crept up his spine until it settled, prickling, in the nape of his neck.

The room was slowly darkening. Sasuke couldn't remember noticing the sun going down completely, and he wondered briefly how long they had been sparring in the dojo. It had been early afternoon when they had started – was it really the early hours of nightfall already?

He felt Itachi move a fingertip over the bruise on his throat, before sliding down over the gentle bump of his Adam's apple. He swallowed hard on reflex, conscious that Itachi was watching the movement. Outside, the hazy night sky cast an eerie light to descend on the room. The open windows rattled gently against the cold night air, as the dark clouds caught the silver, glistening light of the rising moon behind the furthest tree tops.

Those fingers remained on his skin, resting gently against the slight concave between his collarbones. He could feel their light pressure with every rising breath.

We're too close, Sasuke thought to himself, even as he found himself reaching out one hand to Itachi, sitting beside him, their legs gently touching. He was painfully aware of his fingers brushing Itachi's wrist, feeling his cold skin and the bump of his wrist bone. In the dark shadows of the room, the man's skin seemed ethereal. Ghost-like.

'What are you doing…'

Itachi's words weren't a question. There was a slight warning note to his voice which Sasuke found himself ignoring. His phone was on silent back in the bedroom. There was nobody else on the huge complex, surrounded by thick, lush forestry.

The isolation was almost suffocating, a heavy weight which seemed to settle in the room.

_It's just the two of us._

In a strange sense of detachment, Sasuke found himself watching as he reached up with his hand, sliding up Itachi's forearm, crossing the gentle bend of his elbow, his clothed shoulder, feeling the cotton hem at the neck. Some long, stray hairs tickled his fingers, and he watched in strange fascination as he reached up and wrapped Itachi's long ponytail around one hand, pulling him closer.

_What am you doing._

The words echoed in his brain. Over and over. Relentless. The black hair was soft in his grip.

_What am I doing_.

Hot, burning heat crept along his skin, despite the chill of the night air which blew gently into the room. Itachi's eyes burned into his own as he allowed himself to be pulled down, closer, until Sasuke could feel his breath against his lips.

'You don't want to do this.'

Sasuke felt the words, warm and damp, against his skin. He quickly ran his tongue across his bottom lip, feeling a shiver of delight crawl across him as he watched Itachi's eyes track the movement. His eyes were darkening.

'Sasuke.'

The sound of his name falling from Itachi's lips made him feel weak and dizzy. He couldn't help the anxious moan that escaped his lips as he arched his back against the hard wooden floor, shivering in anticipation as his groin bumped into Itachi's upper thigh. He was leaning over him now, an arm on either side of Sasuke's head, trapping him. His loose ponytail was still gripped in Sasuke's hand, holding him tightly.

'Please…' Sasuke muttered, breathing shallow. He wasn't even sure what he was asking for. He felt drunk - not himself. The only thing he knew was that he wanted Itachi's hands on him – he wanted him closer. He wanted him to devour him whole.

Above him, bracing himself against the floor, Itachi closed his eyes. Sasuke watched as his eyelashes brushed against his cheekbones, tiny black brush strokes against a white canvas.

'I can't.'

He began moving away, pushing himself up and away from the boy lying so eagerly on the floor beneath him. Sasuke watched as his hand slipped through his dark hair as if it were water.

'Why…?' The word treacherously caught in his throat, sticking around the hot lump of embarrassment that had lodged itself there. Itachi wasn't listening, instead he was pushing himself up from the floor, standing to his feet and walking across to the nearest open window. The moon had risen above the silhouetted tree-tops, and just before he slid the window shut, his body was edged in silver light – like the way engine oil settles, glistening, around the edge of a puddle.

'Itachi.'

He turned and faced the boy, sighing.

'What?'

Sasuke could feel his embarrassment quickly turning into anger. White hot, it flooded his veins like a drug. His rejection burned away deep in his stomach like a hot coal.

'Why are you ignoring this? This – this _thing_ between us? I'm not imagining it.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I'm not just making it up! You can't just stand there and pretend you don't know what you're doing – what you're doing to me.'

'Shut up, Sasuke.'

'Why should I? How many other people have you strung along huh? How many other people have you just _pretended_ to care about?'

'I said shut up. We're finished here.' Itachi's tone was biting, warning him to not press the issue any further. In defiance, Sasuke stood to his feet and followed Itachi to the next window, picking up the discarded shinai from the floor as he approached him.

Itachi was anticipating the blow. As Sasuke swung hard at the man's side, Itachi turned, blocking the impact with his forearm and using his bodyweight to flip the two of them around – slamming Sasuke's body hard up against the closed window. It rattled noisily against its frame at the heavy impact. Sasuke coughed hard, wincing as his lower back struck the jutting window-ledge. Itachi was holding the shinai, having forced it from his grip. He glared at the boy as he lifted it horizontal against Sasuke's bruised throat, violently shoving him into place and lifting him so that only his toes touched the floor.

'Just what were you thinking was going to happen?' Itachi asked quietly as he pushed his weight onto the shinai, feeling the resistance of the boy's thin throat. He watched as Sasuke clawed at the weapon with his thin fingertips, struggling for breath.

'This is your biggest problem. You let your emotions take over – rushing foolishly into things without thinking. You honestly think you could've taken me on, in the state you're in?' He leaned closer, letting his lips rest against the shell of the boy's ear.

'You're weak, Sasuke.'

Angrily, Sasuke struggled against the weapon holding him in place, bringing his hands up to try and dislodge it. His throat burned as he tried to suck in a shaky breath, letting out a choked laugh which made Itachi press harder.

'You think this is funny?' He asked, narrowing his eyes. Stray strands of dark hair fell across his face.

'N-No,' Sasuke laughed, finding himself revelling in the way Itachi seemed to visibly bristle. 'I just think you've got it the wrong way round.' He smirked as Itachi jostled the weapon, letting the grip on the boy's throat ease up before he slammed him hard back into the window again.

'You say I'm weak,' Sasuke bit out, wincing as fresh hot pain spiked up from his lower back. He could feel Itachi's strength on the weapon, trembling slightly against his throat. 'But at least I know what I want. I'm not the foolish one here, Itachi – I'm not trying to kid myself into ignoring this connection between us.'

He was aware that he was probably saying too much – that any minute now Itachi would furiously let his body slide to the floor and sucker punch him in his smart mouth – but he couldn't resist. Watching Itachi's eyes darken until they were as black as tar, until he could no longer distinguish his pupil from his irises, was dangerously hypnotic.

'Here's a newsflash for you,' he grinned, fingers clutching hard at the shinai against his throat. 'I'm not the weak one here.'

There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by Sasuke's laboured breathing, tight in his chest and aching behind his ribs. His heart resonated like a timpani deep in his ear drums, thumping in his skull and pulsing in his lower back – and for a moment he was sure Itachi could hear it too.

Gritting his teeth, Sasuke braced himself as Itachi withdrew the shinai, letting his body slump against the sill which he clutched at desperately to avoid falling to the floor.

Expecting a punch, Sasuke cried out in shock as Itachi instead wound his hand around to the back of his neck, gripping his spiked hair and pulling hard – forcing his head back.

'You don't know what you're getting yourself in to.'

He spoke through clenched teeth.

The sound of a shinai clattering noisily to the floor echoed throughout the hall. Itachi's left hand, now free, painfully held on to Sasuke's hip, pushing him harder into the wooden window ledge.

Fighting back the stinging hot tears at the edge of his vision, Sasuke forced a smirk as he glared up at the man holding him in place.

'At least I'm strong enough to want to find out,' he spat back, wincing as the hand in his hair gave another tug, making his scalp burn at the rough treatment.

Itachi leaned forward and kissed him.

Hard.

Smooth, sharp teeth sunk into Sasuke's bottom lip and he gasped painfully, feeling Itachi's tongue enter his mouth. He arched forward as Itachi's painted nails scratched hard down his scalp and neck. Briefly he pictured those nails carving thick red lines into his skin, bruising and marking him, drawing blood.

He pulled away and turned his head, breaking the kiss wetly as he gasped for breath. He was only allowed a second's reprieve before Itachi's fingers were on his chin, turning him back for more. He kissed at the corner of the boy's mouth, tasting his breath as he moaned so deliciously against his lips.

'Is this what you wanted?'

Sasuke felt the man's lips move against his own as he spoke, feeling the smirk that followed.

Itachi watched him flinch as he slid a knee between his legs, pressing up against his groin. He pushed hard, feeling the boy grind against him uncontrollably.

'Don't make me ask again,' he breathed hotly against the boy's neck, kissing the skin there.

Sasuke uttered a moan of approval, panting and swallowing hard at the feeling of Itachi's lips on his neck. The sudden bite to his earlobe made him whimper – a sound he thought he would never utter.

'Yes.'

Itachi combed his fingers through the boy's short dark hair, tilting his head to the side so that he could kiss that hot mouth again. In the darkness of the dim room, only illuminated by the broken moonlight, Sasuke didn't notice how Itachi's eyes slid shut as he kissed him.

Cautiously Sasuke pressed up against the knee between his legs, feeling the wonderful heat radiate from his groin at the touch. He could feel Itachi's hands moving away from his hair and down to his hips, holding him tightly as he lifted him slightly to rest on the window ledge. He moved his hands down Sasuke's legs, coaxing him to wrap them around his waist.

Breathing hard, Sasuke tried to catch his breath in between the hot, wet kisses. His lips burned, sending his mind spinning with delicious delirium.

He could feel Itachi's fingers on his black training t-shirt, still clinging to him with chilled sweat, lifting it up and off his body. He awkwardly lifted his arms, letting the shirt peel away from him with Itachi's help. The moment meant to catch his breath instead made him feel oddly embarrassed, and he found himself cringing at his own sudden nudity.

Itachi seemed to sense his embarrassment, and he dropped the shirt to the floor with a smile.

'I wouldn't have taken you to be embarrassed so easily,' he said, lifting his own shirt up by the hem and tugging it smoothly over his head. Sasuke watched as the muscles of his abs flexed, defined by the movement.

'Shut up,' he muttered, using his legs around the man's waist to pull him closer. Itachi was wearing the thin metal necklace that had set off the security alarm back at the airport, and as he threw his shirt down to join the other on the floor, it clinked delicately against the base of his throat. Sasuke found himself entranced by the way the necklace caught the silver light of the moon outside.

Reaching up, he hooked a finger into one of the decorative metal circles, tugging Itachi down to meet his mouth. He groaned, feeling the man's tongue sweep against his own – pulling him deeper against him, the sharpness of the jewellery biting in to his fingertips. The idea of Itachi devouring him whole made him dizzy, and he scratched his nails hard down the man's bare chest, moaning into their kiss as his fingers brushed his taut nipples. He broke away from their kiss to breathe sharply, feeling Itachi's fingers brush against his skin. His thumbs flicked over the nubs of his chest cruelly, stoking the fire that was burning deep within Sasuke's veins.

Even in the chill of the dark dojo, Sasuke felt too hot. It was as if the room was on fire around them. As he looked over at the large dragon mural hidden in the shadows, he almost expected to see bright orange flames licking at its corners.

Itachi's hands slid down from his reddening chest to rest on his groin. He bucked into the hands resting on him, pushing against him teasingly, stroking him gently through the fabric of his pants.

When Itachi's hands paused, Sasuke found himself anxiously moving against them.

'Stop moving.' Itachi glanced past Sasuke to the next window alongside them, still open.

The sound of tyres crunching on the gravel outside made Sasuke's blood run cold. Car breaks squeaked gently to a stop. Doors slammed shut, and footsteps resounded on the gravel drive. Itachi quickly reached across and pulled the window shut.

'Get your clothes from the storeroom and get changed,' Itachi said, as he reached for his black shirt and tugged it back over his head.

'Who is it? I thought you said we were here on our own?' Sasuke asked, trying to cool the fire that continued to prickle over his skin. Grabbing his top from Itachi's outstretched hand he tried to ignore the way their fingers brushed. Pulling the shirt on, he winced as his nipples brushed painfully against the damp fabric.

'My uncle's home.'

Sasuke watched as Itachi swept his black hair over one shoulder, combing his fingers roughly through it as he moved to tie it back. He resisted the urge to reach forward and run his own fingers through it.

Itachi seemed to sense the desire rolling off the boy in waves, and he leaned in to kiss him. Sasuke felt himself melt in to the touch, shivering at the lightest touch of the man's lips. As Itachi moved away, Sasuke tried to follow, stopping only at the feeling of one smooth finger pressing against his damp lips.

'Later,' Itachi said firmly, leaving no room for any argument.

'Now go and get changed. Meet me in the first guest room – it's the room to the right of the main staircase. Ok?'

Sasuke nodded, watching as Itachi crossed the dojo and headed out to the entrance to slip on his shoes before disappearing across the complex. He listened to the sound of his footsteps crunching in the gravel fade, before picking up the two discarded shinai and his helmet. The armour and weapons felt heavy in his weary, achy hands, and he found the soles of his feet felt slightly blistered as he walked over to the storage room.

The smell of hot arousal seemed to hang accusingly on his skin, clinging to the sweat of the shirt that stuck to his back.

You don't know what you're getting yourself in to.

Letting out a heavy breath, he entered the small storage room where had had gotten changed earlier – hanging up the weapons and the helmet on the hooks that hung from the wall. His jeans and t-shirt remained in the tidy pile he had left them in, and he began to peel the sweaty training clothes from his skin. He ignored the tightness in his underwear, willing himself to think of anything other than Itachi's hands on him as he pulled on his faded jeans. Numerous kendo helmets were hanging from the walls, and their dark metal face-plates seemed to be looking at him.

You don't know what you're getting yourself in to.

Sasuke left the storage room and slid the door closed. Sudden movement from the farside of the empty dojo caught his eye, and he turned quickly, startled.

The darkened mural of the dragon, clutching at the thunderous painted clouds and baring its sharp teeth, looked back at him from the shadows.

Sasuke turned and left the dojo, slipping on his socks and shoes quickly. Behind him, the old wooden building creaked gently against the cold night air, its timbers and beams seeming to rise and fall in a laboured breath. Sasuke crossed the courtyard, following a wooden footbridge which led to the main house.

He didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! It's been a long time since I've written anything smutty, so this chapter was a nerve-wracking trial run. I hope you all enjoyed. I'm back at University now until May, so I'm trying hard to split my time between my studies and my writing - hopefully I won't keep you waiting too long for the next installment! I hope you all carry on sticking with me - thank you for your support and comments!
> 
> I listened to quite a few influential tracks whilst writing this chapter, and thought I'd list a little playlist for anyone who wanted to check them out. 
> 
> Sucker Punch OST. Yoav feat. Emily Browning - Where is my Mind  
> Daughtry - Break this Spell  
> Breaking Benjamin - So Cold  
> Poets of the Fall - Lie Eternal  
> Poets of the Fall - Carnival of Rust  
> Ghost. Live in hardDrive Studios - If you have Ghosts


	8. Chapter 8

 

> I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it - to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.'
> 
> \- _Haruki Murakami, 'Norwegian Wood.'_

Chapter 8

The heavy wooden door creaked open to one side as Sasuke stepped in to the main building. Two large lanterns were lit in the entry way, hanging from the ceiling and illuminating the corridor with soft light. He slid the door shut behind him, toeing his shoes off in the small alcove nestled into the wall. There were two pairs of shoes there already – his eyes caught the soft glint of the black leather loafers tucked in the corner, perfectly polished. Itachi's uncle's, he presumed. Standing in the entry way, he peered down the dark corridor. Voices were coming from the far end, somewhere off to the right.

He stepped up onto the cold floorboards, feeling them creak under his weight. He recognised the first door leading off to the kitchen, and could just make out the looming staircase at the very far end of the corridor. Didn't Itachi mention something about guest rooms and meeting rooms? He trailed a hand along the side of the heavy cabinets that lined the wall as he walked, watching as the lanterns above caught the edges of the black lacquered boxes, their edges shimmering like oil; the antique vase with their glittering gold leaf; the beautiful floral arrangements with their crimson spider lilies.

'Room to the right of the stairs…' Sasuke breathed, remembering Itachi's directions. Sure enough, as he approached the huge stairwell the muffled voices grew ever so slightly louder. The skin at the back of his neck began to prickle as he followed the corridor around the stairs. One of the rooms on the right was illuminated softly from within by candlelight; Sasuke could just make out the flames flickering through the translucent paper walls. Shadows moved, obscuring the light for a moment.

'I just hope you know what you're doing,' a voice muttered from behind the wall. Reaching out a hand to knock on the wooden frame, Sasuke paused – his fist suspended in the air.

'I'm not being stupid, if that's what you're insinuating.'

Itachi - speaking low and hushed. Sasuke felt a delicate shiver creep up his spine at the sound of his voice. He found himself vividly remembering the way Itachi's fingers felt clutching tightly at his hair, the way his lips moved against his neck as he spoke.

'Anyway, now's not the time for a lecture,' he heard Itachi mutter, watching as the shadows moved across the room like figures in a puppet show. 'I know what I'm doing.'

Sasuke finally let his knuckles knock on the side of the sliding door. He listened anxiously at the sound of shuffling movement from behind the wall.

Itachi slid the door open, and he found his breath catch slightly in his throat. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Sasuke forced himself to look away.

'Sasuke, is it?' A voice suddenly asked from the far side of the room. Sasuke hesitantly stepped into the guest room as Itachi beckoned him in, sliding the panel door behind him. The guest room was huge – a large lowered table sat in the centre, surrounded by plush seating cushions. A man was carefully pouring out three tumblers of sake at the table, his face obscured by his long dark hair which fell loosely around his shoulders. 'How are you finding Kyoto?'

'It's beautiful, Sir,' Sasuke said as he approached the seated man and bowed low at the waist. 'I'm honoured to be staying in such a beautiful home.'

The man made a noise of approval as he stood to his feet, offering out a tumbler to the boy.

'It's a shame you couldn't have seen it in its prime – the place has weathered and aged these last few decades. Still,' he said, as he pushed the sake at Sasuke. 'I'm glad to hear it pleases you.'

Standing up from his deep bow, Sasuke took the ribbed ceramic cup and looked up at the man standing above him. The resemblance to Itachi was scarily uncanny - right from the dark eyes to his heavy black hair. Even the fine tailored suit looked like something Itachi would've had in his closet. Only the thin creases around the man's eyes and the corners of his lips gave any hint as to his age.

'I'm Madara, Itachi's uncle.' He swept a hand through his thick hair and pushed it over his shoulder before reaching out a hand for Sasuke to shake. His grip was firm, and Sasuke could feel the power in his arms.

'It's a pleasure to meet you Sir.'

Madara chuckled as he released Sasuke's hand and took his place back down at the table, sighing as he eased himself down onto the soft cushions. 'The pleasure's all mine. I've heard a lot about you from my nephew.'

Sasuke shot Itachi a look as they moved to join him at the table. Itachi didn't meet his gaze, instead he nonchalantly reached for a cup of sake across the tabletop.

'My nephew here reckons you're one of the best players on your University's kendo team,' Madara said, circling the rim of his tumbler with a fingertip. He was looking at Sasuke with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. 'Apparently he's been tutoring you after classes, am I right?'

Sasuke nodded, taking a sip of the dry alcohol. 'He's been… very helpful.' His eyes darted across the table to Itachi sitting opposite. He thought he saw a hint of a smirk as he watched him lift his cup to drink. 'I've greatly appreciated his insight and expertise.'

'Shame he doesn't put that expertise to use more often,' Madara muttered as he shifted his weight in his seat, bringing one knee up to rest his arm on as he leaned back on the other. He gestured his tumbler accusingly at his nephew. 'He wastes all his time painting and sketching and god knows what else – after all those years I put in to teaching him. Such a waste!'

Itachi shook his head gently. 'Enough of the melodrama, uncle.' He reached across for the bottle of sake near Sasuke – lightly brushing his forearm with his fingertips as he leaned over the table. Their eyes met briefly and Sasuke resisted the urge to flinch. Itachi seemed to notice, and his lips curved up into the slightest hint of a smirk as he moved back to his seat.

'Besides, Sasuke shows more promise than I ever did. He's got the drive – and the talent.'

Sasuke shifted in his seat, forcing himself to take another mouthful of the sweet alcohol. He didn't quite know how to take the compliment – such words seemed strange coming from Itachi's smug mouth.

'Well, I'd be interested to see you play sometime,' Madara said as he knocked back the last of his sake. 'When's your next match? Maybe I could come and watch – see whether or not Itachi's put his tutelage to good use.' He moved to stand, brushing out the wrinkles in his white shirt as he pushed himself to his feet. Sasuke followed, standing up and bowing low once again.

'It would be an honour. We fight against the Sunagakure team in two weeks' time.'

'Hm, a tough fight. I wouldn't miss it.'

Madara cast a glance over to his nephew who remained sitting at the lowered table, leisurely pouring himself another drink. 'Look after your guest whilst he's staying with us,' he said carefully. 'I'm sure his team want him back in one piece.'

Itachi smirked as he lifted his cup to his mouth. Sasuke found himself watching the movement of his throat as he swallowed.

'Don't worry uncle,' he said, swiping a finger over the corner of his mouth. 'He's in good hands.'

Sasuke furiously tried to ignore the hot sweep of heat which threatened to crawl up his skin and into his cheeks. His lower back twinged slightly as he stood from the bow, bruising from the impact of Itachi pressing him up against the windowsill moments before in the dojo.

Madara's gaze seemed to linger warily on his nephew, before he moved to leave the room. As he headed for the sliding door, he placed a heavy hand on Sasuke's shoulder.

'Anything you need, just ask. I'm sure you'll want a bath before you head to bed – Itachi will show you where to go. Whilst here, this house is your home.'

Sasuke looked at the older man beside him, noting the slight hint of grey in his eyes and the fine lines creasing at the corner of his mouth. He seemed to hold his gaze for a moment, and Sasuke wondered if he was hesitating – as if he had something else he wanted to say.

Instead, Madara merely patted his shoulder and offered him a smile. He slid the paper door open smoothly and stepped out into the corridor, turning a corner and disappearing from sight into the shadows.

'Come on,' Itachi mentioned from behind him, placing a stopper back into the ceramic sake bottle as he stood up from the table. His voice made Sasuke jump. 'I'll show you to the main bathroom.'

* * *

Sasuke stood at the edge of the tub, watching as Itachi leaned forward over the huge basin and adjusted the flow of hot water from a large tap jutting from the wall. It steamed as it splashed into the circular tub, spraying droplets up onto the wooden walls before it began to fill. Sasuke watched as Itachi tested the temperature with his hand, swirling his fingers through the plunging water.

'Shower is in the corner.' He gestured to the corner of the room opposite the tub, and Sasuke turned to see the shower neatly hidden behind a large screen. 'Towels are up on the rack, and you can help yourself to any of the shower products.' He stood up, flexing his back as he stepped back to watch the tub continue to fill. The hot water splashed and spluttered from the tap, creaking in the pipes.

'The water's drawn from the hot springs,' he said gently, turning to face the boy who hovered by the main doorway. 'If it gets too hot, just turn this wheel here.' He pointed to the metal wheel below the tap. 'It's an old system, but it works.'

Sasuke nodded, hanging back slightly. Itachi seemed to sense his apprehension.

'I wouldn't recommend showering in your clothes,' he muttered, as he moved towards the boy and slipped his arms around him. Sasuke balked and moved to push him away, pausing only when Itachi's fingers brushed the bruise on his lower back.

'Turn around,' Itachi said, hearing the boy's voice hitch slightly as he brushed against his skin. Reluctantly Sasuke obeyed, wincing as Itachi tugged his t-shirt up and over his head, throwing it over to land on a long bench resting up against the wall.

He pressed two fingers into the hot, purpling bruise at the base of the boy's spine.

'You bruise easily,' he muttered, his words lost on Sasuke's ears as he focused on the feeling of Itachi's fingers sliding up the bumps of his spine, examining a long scratch just below his shoulder blade. He could feel Itachi's hands sliding up to the base of his neck, could feel his lips press lightly against the side of his throat. There was a bruise forming there too, no doubt from the weight of the shinai that Itachi held against him – pinning him to the dojo wall. He could feel the dull ache beneath the touch of his lips.

'Shower first, then bath.' Itachi's voice was hot against his skin, and when he moved away Sasuke struggled to hold back a shiver, even in the warmth of the room.

'You remember where your room is, right? Top of the staircase and second door down. I'm going to see if I can find some of my art supplies – if you need anything, you know I'm just next door. Ok?'

Sasuke pushed a hand through his dampening hair and released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

'Yeah, sure - thanks.'

He listened to Itachi leave the bathroom and slide the heavy wooden door shut. As the door slid firmly closed, he crossed the room and sank down onto the wooden bench, taking the weight off of his trembling legs. He breathed deep and exhaled, letting his head fall back to rest against the cool wall. The tub was nearly full – he could see the water line lapping at the edge. He pushed himself up on slightly steadier legs to cross the room and shut off the water. The metal of the tap was burning hot, the steaming water deep and clear. He unzipped his jeans and tugged off his underwear, leaving them on the bench with his crumpled shirt as he stepped into the shower first, remembering Itachi's instructions. He generously wetted his damp hair, pushing the water through it with his hands.

 _What the hell am I doing here_.

The thought crossed his mind as he reached for a bottle of shower gel, sitting on a small shelf by the shower head. It was half full, a dark green colour. Matcha and cardamom, he read, scanning the wet label on the bottle. He popped the cap and lathered some into his hands, rubbing the foam through his hair and over his shoulders. His senses were flooded with the smell of smoky tea and spices, and he wondered briefly if it was Itachi's – if these very scents lingered on his damp skin after showering. He winced as he touched the soft bruises on the skin of his throat.

He'd never considered himself a masochist before, but as he pressed onto his throat and pictured Itachi's hands holding him, Itachi's painted nails digging into his skin, he thought the word seemed to fit him perfectly.

The last of the foamy bubbles slipped down his hips and thighs, spiralling down his calf muscles before spinning lazily down the floor drain. He watched them disappear before shutting off the power. The cold air prickled at the fine hairs on his arms and he eagerly headed towards the steaming tub.

As he walked, he left wet footprints behind on the dark floorboards.

Easing himself into the hot water, he let out a heavy sigh of bliss. He let his body slip down until he rested on the tub's floor, bringing his knees up in front of him. He flexed his hands under the water, enjoying the feeling of the heavy weight leaving his muscles as he let his head fall back against the cool wall.

His wet hair dripped onto the surface of the water, rippling the surface. The old pipes creaked and groaned from behind the walls, swelling with the sudden rush of hot water. He turned his eyes to the ceiling as he followed the noise, listening to the last of the water trickle through the pipe works.

Somewhere above him, footsteps creaked. They moved across the ceiling slowly, before disappearing into an adjoining room out of ear shot. Madara, maybe, or Itachi.

The thought made goose-bumps crawl across his bare shoulders, and he hurried to sink them below the water.

He stayed in the tub until sweat dripped down the back of his neck – until his fingertips felt wrinkled and the water went tepid around him. Hoisting his body out of the water, he eased his wet feet onto the wooden floor. Big piles of soft grey towels sat up on a rack to his left, each one perfectly folded.

The place didn't feel like a home – with its immaculate rooms, perfectly polished floors, and huge ornate kitchen, it seemed more like a grand old-fashioned hotel, somewhere where time had stopped still. He reached for a towel and wrapped it tightly around his waist, trying to picture a ten-year old Itachi living in the complex. Running across the wooden corridors that lined the gardens, training in the snow, bruising his feet on the gravel. He couldn't quite imagine it – a child, living among all the empty rooms, getting lost in the silent maze of zen-gardens.

He dressed in silence, listening out for any footsteps above him or in the outside corridors. He couldn't hear any movement. Fully clothed, he open the heavy wooden door to the bathroom and peered into the darkness beyond. At the far end of the corridor, a large ornate lantern hung from the ceiling – illuminating what appeared to be the huge staircase and entry way.

'Top of the staircase, second door down…'

His own words seemed loud in the corridor, and he jumped at the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut behind him. His socks felt damp from his wet feet as he walked carefully towards the entry way, heading for the soft light that descended from the ceiling.

He cast a quick glance at the huge wooden doors leading to the outside courtyard as he passed, noting the heavy metal bolt which secured the two together. For some reason he found himself thinking of a young Itachi again. In the gloomy shadows, under the flickering glow of the lantern, he could almost make out the image of a young child standing on his toes, pale white arms reaching up for the heavy lock that barricaded him inside.

Sasuke found himself lingering, one hand on the banister, his right foot on the very first step. The staircase disappeared up and into the darkness, stretching into the shadows. Outside a fox gave a loud bark, shattering the silence as its lonely call echoed into the forests. Sasuke ascended the stairs, trying to forget the image of the ghostly young child, reaching up for the iron lock which stood, proudly, tauntingly, just out of reach.

* * *

Slipping into the darkness of the bedroom, Sasuke gently eased the sliding door shut closed behind him. He crept his way across the room, heading for the window on the far wall. Throwing back the curtains, he pushed open the glass window and looked out. The air in the room felt stuffy and warm, and the breeze from the cool night air was refreshing and welcoming. He leant on the edge of the window and breathed in the smell of the night.

The forest seemed liked a living entity in the dark. It appeared to move, to almost crawl in the night air as the breeze rustled the branches of the tall pine trees. It stretched on into the distance for as far as Sasuke could make out – a huge looming sea the colour of calligraphy ink.

He shivered and pushed himself up off the window's edge, casting a glance around his bedroom for the next few nights. The moonlight caught on the lacquered, shining wardrobe and dresser in the corner. The single futon, plush and thick, was ready made up against the wall – his jacket and duffel bag sat at its end. He crossed the room and sat down on the futon, surprised at its softness as it sank gently with his weight. It had been years since he'd slept on a tradition futon. Along with most places in Japan, the University had adopted the more modern, Western style of furnishings – including typical Western beds. It seemed almost a novelty to be sleeping on the floor once again, and he shifted his weight slightly.

He hooked his fingers into the loop of his duffel bag and tugged it towards him. Inside he found his phone, its screen glowing in the dark from within his bag with the notification of a text.

'Shit…'

It was a message from Naruto, sent a couple of hours ago.

_Hey – I knocked for you earlier but no answer, are you out somewhere?_

The clock at the top of the screen glowed, showing the time to be just after midnight. He hesitated before messaging back.

_Hey, am actually in Kyoto for the weekend – left early this morning so didn't wake you. Itachi Uchiha's idea – kendo training before match against Sunagakure._

He hit the send button and watched as the text jumped into a little envelope which sped off the screen. He pushed a hand through his damp hair, anticipating Naruto's response. Sure enough, his phone blinked with a new text just a few moments later.

_KYOTO?! Dude – where was my invite? Promise me you'll bring back Uji matcha kitkats._

He sighed and began typing a reply.

_I'm kinda in the middle of nowhere – don't think I'm going to see any kitkats way out here. Neji's gonna probably stress out – just say I'll catch up with him for extra training when I'm back. Ok?_

The envelope rushed off again in a hurry. From somewhere nearby, floorboards creaked gently, as if under shifted weight. Sasuke looked over to the open window, flooding the room with the soft glow of the moonlight through the thinning clouds. He shivered and quickly crossed the room to close the heavy glass, pulling the curtains across and plunging the room into darkness.

His phone shone again, the brightness hurting his eyes.

_Lol ok well keep your eyes out for them anyway! Yeah sure I will do – I bet Neji will be so jealous of you training with the Uchiha, lol. See you when you get back. N._

The floorboards creaked again, and Sasuke found himself turning to look at the thick sliding wall to his left, right beside his futon. No light shone through the paper walls, but he could've sworn the sound came from the room next door. Itachi's room, he reminded himself. He ran his thumb over the glossy screen of his phone, wondering if Itachi was in there – sitting on his own futon, unable to sleep either.

He glanced at the paper screen separating the two bedrooms, listening hard for any more sounds of someone walking across the floor, but there was only silence. His heart began to beat a little quicker as he typed out a message.

_Hey. You awake?_

He hesitated briefly before choosing Itachi's name from the address list and pressing the send button.

Shifting slightly on the futon, he winced as the bruise on his lower back nudged against the stack of pillows behind him. He remembered how rough Itachi had been when he forced him up against the solid wooden windowsill in the dojo, the feeling of the shinai up against his throat, pinning him in place. He tossed his phone onto the soft covers in front of him and hesitantly pressed a hand to his neck, feeling the tightness of his adam's apple as he swallowed against the bruised skin.

His phone screen lit up suddenly, and Sasuke couldn't help but let out a surprised noise – choked slightly against his fingers. He pressed it open with his left hand.

_I am now. Do you need anything?_

Pressing against the fresh bruise, Sasuke started to imagine his thin fingers were Itachi's own. His stomach gave a nervous flip at the dangerous thought, but he couldn't stop now. He found himself trailing a finger across his own lips, envisioning Itachi kneeling before him, holding him by the throat as he dipped a finger into his mouth.

A new message popped up.

_Well?_

Releasing his throat and reaching for his phone, Sasuke found himself breathing hard in the darkness of the room. He glanced over at the room next to him, wondering if he could make out a gentle flickering of light through the paper screen; wondering if Itachi could hear him.

_I can't sleep._

His arousal burned hot in his groin, pressing painfully against the fabric of the tight jeans as he sent the text. Somewhere from his left, a gentle creak resounded. His heart gave a nervous jump at the sound and he flinched, balling one of his hands into a fist around the soft sheets of the futon. His arousal had reached such a dizzying high, he could barely bring himself to open the new incoming text that flashed softly on the phone screen.

_I might be able to help with that._

The soft groan that escaped Sasuke's parted lips was silenced by the sudden _whoosh_ of the sliding screen opening beside him. He turned, eager, and moaned in surprise as he was kissed. His phone slipped from his hand and was lost in the darkness of the room.

'Trouble sleeping?' Itachi's words burned hot against his mouth as he kissed him through a smile. Sasuke shivered and reached for him, finding bare skin under his palms and two hard raised nubs between his fingers. He scratched with his nails and listened to Itachi hiss deliciously.

'I couldn't… knowing you were just next door.'

Itachi made a pleased sound low in his throat, and Sasuke was sure that he was smirking. Hands were on the shirt against his chest, tugging it up and over his head.

'We might need to sort _this_ out.'

Sasuke breathed in sharply as Itachi's hand pushed up against his jeans, feeling him tight and hot against the metal zipper.

'I don't see how you'll get to sleep if you don't.'

'Quit joking,' Sasuke bit back, words trailing off into a breathy groan as Itachi's hand moved against him. His back arched off the futon, hips pushing themselves up and into the pressure of the hand that forced him back down.

'Patience,' Itachi muttered, kissing the warm skin beneath Sasuke's ear, breathing in the clean scent of matcha clinging to his damp hair. Sasuke shivered at the feeling of his breath, eyes wincing shut as the kiss turned into a sharp bite.

Itachi's fingers worked deftly on the zipper of his jeans, hooking up into the belt loops and tugging the fabric down until it bunched at Sasuke's knees, trapping his legs against the futon.

Sasuke shuddered as cold hands swept over his bare chest, lips following with a series of hot, wet kisses which turned into sharp bites over his nipples, making him gasp. When fingertips reached the hem of his tight underwear, Sasuke reached down with his hands, burying his fists in Itachi's long loose hair.

Itachi's mouth was dizzyingly hot and wet. He tightened his fingers in the man's locks, feeling his fingertips brush against his scalp, and he gave a slight tug, feeling that hot mouth slip down on him a little further.

' _God_ …'

He spoke through clenched teeth, throwing his head back as Itachi's tongue began to move, sweeping along his length and up to the tip where he dipped his tongue, almost painfully, into the slit there. His hands slipped down to slide alongside his mouth, cupping him and squeezing gently.

Sasuke moaned at the feeling of Itachi pulling off of him, the wet sound of Itachi's lips leaving his cock ringing in his ears. His head was spinning, and the room felt as though it were tilting slightly – as if the earth had shifted dangerously on its axis. As his eyes began to slowly adjust to the darkness of the room, he could begin to make out Itachi's pale skin, the way he wiped the back of his hand against his mouth, the dark, polished glint of his eyes.

Sasuke reached up and tugged Itachi down to kiss him, unabashedly biting the man's bottom lip hard, tasting warmth and salt. His hands moved across his bare chest, catching on the metal necklace which hung down from his throat.

'Come here,' Itachi said against his lips, grabbing one of Sasuke's wrists to pull him up onto his knees on the futon. He sank a little into the soft covers, still aware of the way his jeans were bunched down around his legs. He watched, chest rising and falling steadily with his short breaths, as Itachi sank back onto his heels, slipping his loose lounge pants down to reveal sharp, jutting hip bones and his arousal. A slight nervousness began to shiver its way up Sasuke's spine, a slight trepidation as he looked at the naked man before him.

Itachi seemed to sense his hesitation, and he moved closer until they were just inches apart, kneeling in front of each other. Sasuke's legs trembled. For a moment, he wondered if Itachi was going to say something. He watched as the man's lips parted, the dampness on his bottom lip glistening slightly, before he silently reached for Sasuke's cock and held him against his own. Sasuke flinched at the sudden feeling, his breath catching on the broken sharpness of an inescapable moan. His hands came up and held onto Itachi's shoulders, nails digging in, unsure if he was bracing himself or trying to push the man away. His head fell forward slightly, and Itachi's breath came hot against his ear.

His hands moved, delicious friction against the two of them, pulling up and pushing down in long, slow strokes. The pleasure was almost painful, and every time Itachi's fingers tugged up he found his breath shaking.

'How long have you thought about this?'

Itachi's voice broke the darkness, a low murmur against Sasuke's ear that caused him to quiver, his muscles drawing tight and tense at the sound of his voice.

'How many times have you seen me and wanted this to happen?'

He thumbed Sasuke's slit painfully, drawing forth a hot, sticky dribble that ran across his painted thumbnail. Sasuke moaned hotly, digging his nails into the white flesh of the man's shoulders. He scratched, hard, hearing the sharp intake of breath, feeling Itachi's cock twitch against him at the pain.

'Look at me.'

He spoke through clenched teeth, watching as Sasuke lifted his head slightly, reluctantly, mouth open and panting hard, lips dark and wet, his hair damp with fresh sweat at his temples.

Sasuke met Itachi's eyes as he looked at the man before him, chest slick with sweat, black hair tucked loosely behind one ear, hands gripping tightly onto their cocks, sliding them wetly together. Pleasure spiked deep in his gut, almost like a cramp, tightening within him like a metal coil, winding tighter and tighter.

He couldn't hold it back. Looking into Itachi's eyes, knowing that he was watching his every move like a hawk, he came hard. Itachi's hands didn't relent – pulling the orgasm from his body with every squeeze, feeling the boy pulse deliciously beneath his palms and up against him. It was enough to push him over the edge, and he came up against the boy's tiring cock, gripping hard.

Sasuke struggled to catch his breath as his legs gave way beneath him, his thighs shaking as he sank down onto his haunches. Itachi's hands continued to move against him, painfully coaxing the last lazy spurts of his orgasm from his tip. It dribbled down his length, slipping over Itachi's knuckles, cold against his burning skin.

'Please…' he muttered, releasing his hands from the man's shoulders where his nails had been desperately digging in. 'I can't…'

'Can't what?'

Itachi lowered himself back onto his heels, releasing them both and swiping his tongue along his wet fingers. Sasuke moaned at the sight, feeling his dry throat catch as he tried to swallow.

'Can't come again?'

A dangerous smirk lifted at one corner of his lips as he leaned forward, brushing the boy's lips with his fingertips.

'I don't think that's true.'

Sasuke eagerly let the fingertips into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the polished nails, tasting the last remnants of his own orgasm. His eyes slid shut as he sucked, taking one of Itachi's fingers in up to the knuckle. He listened to the soft groan of approval from above, the noise causing his limp arousal to stir.

He looked up as he sucked, watching as Itachi's eyes narrowed, noticing how stray locks of hair had slipped loose from behind his ear. Letting the man's fingers slip wetly from his mouth, he let himself sink forward so that his knees and elbows rested on the futon, dampening with sweat.

He wasn't the only one feeling aroused again so quickly.

Itachi breathed in sharply as he watched the boy move towards him on all fours, spiked damp hair sticking up at odd angles around his head where he had roughed it. His cock jumped at the feel of warm breath, and he couldn't help but shudder at the feeling of the boy's thin hands stroking him, slipping up and down his length with a slight hesitancy.

Sasuke hadn't done this before, but for some reason the thought didn't bother him. All he could think of was Itachi looking down at him, watching him, waiting as he hovered near his straining cock. A hand came up into his hair, fingers massaging his scalp for a brief moment before tightening gently, coaxing him down.

'Sasuke…'

He heard his name from above, a soft groan, as he took Itachi into his throat. Feeling his member push up against his tongue, Sasuke swallowed around him, surprised to feel him twitch at the sensation. A trickle of heat slipped down his throat, the texture of syrup.

The fingers in his hair tightened a little, pushing him down just a fraction, urging him to open his mouth a little more. He slipped in deeper. Sasuke heard another breathy groan as he moved his tongue, flicking against the warm tip which nudged against the top of his mouth. He sucked and licked until the dizzying need for breath threatened him with an array of black spots dancing wildly in front of his eyes.

Itachi watched as the boy pulled away, chest heaving for breath. A thick strand of saliva kept them connected, a glistening bridge between the boy's swollen lips and his own reddening cock. The sight was more than he could bear, and he pushed the boy onto his back with little resistance, slipping the bunched up jeans from his legs and tossing them on to the floor. Lifting one of the boy's muscular thighs up slightly, he eased himself between his legs.

'Don't tense up,' he warned, as he wetted a finger in a rivulet of shining pre-cum that leaked from the boy's tip.

Sasuke let out a shaky breath as he felt the first finger press up against him, easing in. He tried to relax, knowing that tensing up would only make things worse, but he struggled when another finger slid in alongside the first. A sharp pain resounded from his right thigh and he jumped, startled, feeling Itachi's teeth leave his skin. When the third finger pushed in, Sasuke bit back a sharp hiss of pain, eyes threatening to water at the sudden intrusion.

Itachi's free hand reached up and stroked him, sliding a bead of pre-cum around the very tip with his finger. The pleasure was raw and white-hot, making him squirm against the bed sheets, accidentally pushing down onto those fingers and nudging against something inside that made him moan loudly.

'Ssh,' Itachi hushed him, curling his fingers to nudge against that spot once again. 'You don't want my uncle to hear you.'

Sasuke's moan turned into quiet, breathy whimpers as he bit his bottom lip – trying to stifle the noise he couldn't help but make. His whole body felt alive – as if every nerve ending was being electrified. He could feel the hairs on his skin lifting, his back arching as he tried to repeatedly push his body down onto Itachi's fingers.

When they disappeared from his body, Sasuke was left wanting. The desire to feel that spot inside him was almost overwhelming, and when he felt Itachi push up against him, hot and slick, he couldn't help but moan.

'So eager,' Itachi said softly as he rubbed himself teasingly against the boy's entrance, watching as he bit at his red lips and writhed against the futon's mussed up sheets.

'Don't… tease…'

Sasuke's words were spoken through clenched teeth, and he grabbed a fistful of sheets in one hand as he tried to inch his body down on Itachi's.

'Very well,' Itachi said with a smile, as he gave in to the boy's wishes and pushed himself in.

The pain was sharp, and Sasuke bit back a groan of discomfort. He felt Itachi still above him, pausing briefly. When Sasuke looked up, he was surprised to find Itachi looking at him, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling heavily. His temples glistened faintly with sweat, and Sasuke found himself looking at the dark strands of hair which clung to his throat and neck. His eyes darkened when he caught the boy looking up at him, and he eased himself in a little further, listening to Sasuke's breath catch in his throat.

'You ok?'

Sasuke forced himself to nod, ignoring the way his jaw bones were beginning to ache from the tightness of his teeth. There was no way he was going to admit to the pain – he wasn't going to give Itachi another reason to think less of him.

'You can say if it's too much, you know.'

Itachi's voice was low and soft, and as he spoke he lifted a hand to brush Sasuke's hair away from his face. Sasuke was surprised at the gentleness of the action, and his heart gave a nervous shudder at the sensation of his warm fingers sliding down his cheekbone.

'I'm fine,' he said, reaching up and pulling Itachi towards him. He kissed him hard, sliding his tongue along the parting of his lips before slipping into his mouth. The soft moan escaping Itachi's lips reverberated against him, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He felt him move above him, thrusting hard enough to rock up against that spot inside of him, making his head spin deliriously. His hands slipped from Itachi's face, tangling briefly in his long hair, twisting the strands around his fingers and tugging sharply, pulling forth a hot groan from the man's wet mouth.

He knew he was close – the maddening feeling of Itachi's body pushing up against his, the pain subsiding and turning into white-hot pleasure, the feeling of Itachi's painted fingernails digging in to the muscular flesh of his thigh.

He came hard for the second time, the orgasm hitting him with a surprising force – so much so that he couldn't help but shout out. A hand came up over his mouth and silenced him, the action only serving to push his orgasm harder from his body as he groaned with delight from beneath Itachi's fingers, tightly clamping down on his lips.

He watched through hooded lids, breath coming fast and hard through his nose as Itachi pulled out, the sensation suddenly leaving him feeling empty. He came over Sasuke's chest, releasing the boy's mouth from beneath his hand as his body shuddered with the strength of his orgasm.

Sasuke didn't flinch when a warm spurt landed wetly on his cheek, another hitting his chin. He struggled to catch his breath as Itachi lowered his body down beside him, just fitting on to the single futon as he rested on one elbow, propping his head up with one hand.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, broken only by their heavy breathing. Moonlight had inched its way around the corner of the curtain, illuminating a sharp dagger of pale light on the far wall.

'Sorry about this,' Itachi muttered, smiling. He lazily drew his fingers through the warm white ribbons on Sasuke's stomach.

Sasuke shivered at the sensation, tempted to tug the damp futon sheets over his body as the room began to cool slightly.

'I don't mind,' he replied, wiping at the sticky rivulets that had hit his face and chin. He sucked his fingers clean, slowly, knowing Itachi was watching his every moment.

'Does this… change everything?' He asked quietly, turning his head to look towards the window, edged with silver light.

Itachi looked at him curiously, noticing the slight hesitancy in his voice.

'Only if you want it to.'

He leaned down and kissed the boy's swollen lips as he spoke.

'Come here,' Itachi said as he broke the kiss, coaxing Sasuke up from the futon, ignoring his protests. He tugged him to his feet, holding him gently as his legs wobbled under his weight. Silently he led him through the thick paper screen that he had pushed aside, stepping quietly into the darkness of the room next door.

 _Itachi's room_ , Sasuke thought, as he found himself crossing a wide room towards a large double futon on the floor, piled high with pillows and comforters. It was too dark to make out anything else in the big room, although he thought he spotted some dark hulking shapes lining the walls - dressers or pieces of furniture. Itachi slipped in beneath the covers of his futon and beckoned him down to join him. The covers were heavy and thick, the pillows soft and down-filled. Sasuke found himself sighing at the softness of the bed, relishing in the way his bruised body relaxed down gently.

Itachi watched as the boy slipped effortlessly into sleep beside him. Above them, floorboards creaked quietly. He cast a cautious glance up to the ceiling, listening for movement, but there was none.

'Sasuke…' He breathed in the darkness, tasting the shape of the boy's name on his lips. He reached for a lock of his roughly spiked hair, feeling the softness beneath his fingertips.

Pushing aside the niggling feeling of worry which had begun to settle at the corner of his mind, Itachi closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

It would be hours before he finally slipped off, the image of the boy sleeping soundly beside him burning into his closed lids, chasing him in his dreams.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter - I'm sorry for the delay! My summer has been really hectic as I have had to start researching my dissertation over the summer break, meaning I haven't had much free time at all. It's also been a good few years since I last wrote anything smutty - so I did struggle with writing this chapter. The story will go down a slightly darker route from this chapter onwards, so I hope you will all stay with me and continue reading. Thank you so much for your comments and reviews - I read every single one and love hearing how you are all finding the story. Thank you again for sticking with me during this delay! Much love to you all.


	9. Chapter 9

_Vows are spoken_  
_To be broken,_  
 _Feelings are intense._  
 _Words are trivial._

* * *

 

“Somebody find him!”

There was a loud slam of a door shutting from above. Hiding in the stair well, back pressed against the concrete wall, Itachi clasped a hand over his mouth. Tasting copper, he pulled the blood-stained palm away from his lips in revulsion. He pushed his tongue against one of his back teeth, testing, feeling it wobbly dangerously. His head span and he struggled to stay conscious, watching with a strange fascination as the black worms crawling at the edge of his vision swam forward, threatening to consume him.

“He can’t have gone far – he’s a thirteen year old _kid_ for Christ’s sake!”

He pushed himself further into the shadows of the stairs, listening to the pounding of feet as the men upstairs ran from room to room. His hair tie had broken – _“Hold him still for me,” he had said as he grabbed a fistful of the boy’s long hair and wrenched his head backwards_ – somewhere upstairs, and his long hair stuck wetly to his neck and cheeks.

His numb fingers fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out an old nokia phone. He held his finger on the speed dial, let the call ring for a few seconds, and then hang up.

Terror seized his chest as a door from the floor above crashed open, banging hard against the wall as someone ran through. Itachi watched as concrete dust shook from the stairs above him in the dim light, listening as feet thumped down the stairs. He pulled his knees tightly up to his chest, the phone safely tucked away back in his jacket, and held his breath.

‘I know you’re here Itachi.’

He watched in silence as the man headed around the corner of the stairwell, walking towards his hiding place. He could see polished office shoes, glistening wetly in the dark. The heel clicked gently as he walked.

‘Come on now, surely your father wouldn’t want you to see you like this – a frightened child, hiding away in the corner?’

The man’s voice was cloying, almost sweet. Itachi could feel his heartbeat thundering in his eardrums, and for a moment he found himself thinking it would be his racing heart that would lead the man straight to him.

‘Aren’t you going to come out and face me?’

As he spoke, he paused. Only a few feet away from Itachi now, and he could make out the suave office trousers the man was wearing.  The fabric pleated down the front of the leg, and Itachi watched in horror as he pulled a knife from his pocket. The blade caught the light of the bare lightbulb overhead, swinging gently as people ran through the floors above them, sending deep shudders through the ceiling. 

When the man crouched down and smiled at him, his teeth sharp and white, Itachi found himself choking back a cry. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to move backwards, feet slipping on the rough concrete floor as the wall behind him pushed into his back. Unyielding. 

‘Now now, there’s no need for tears.’

Reaching forward, the man took a hold of Itachi’s ankle and pulled hard, tugging him from the safety of the shadows and out into the light of the corridor. Itachi cried out in pain as his palms reflexively fell to the floor, scratching hard against the rough ground as he tried to right himself. In his pocket, his phone began to vibrate.

‘You could’ve made this so much easier, you know.’

Itachi watched in horror as the man leant forward and kneeled on his left leg, pinning him down to the floor. His knee joint protested as a sharp bolt of pain raced through his body up into his hip, making him grit his teeth to stop the whimper that threatened to escape his lips. 

‘You’ve landed yourself in some big trouble because of your silly actions upstairs.’

Itachi watched as the knife was held up against his throat, his chin, trailing up to his right eye.

‘Such a shame too. You could have had an easy life with us – you and your family. You had such potential – we all saw it. To just throw it all away…’

The man tutted, pushing the knife’s tip gently into the soft corner of Itachi’s bottom eye lid, pushing until the eye bulged forward.

‘The boss wants to mail little pieces of you to your uncle in Kyoto. Proof that we got the job done and ended your rebellious little tirade. He suggested starting with your fingers...'

He chuckled as he watched the boy reflexively clench his fists. His knuckles were white, shaking.

'But I suggested we send a stronger message. A finger in the mail is too mafia, you know? No. We’ll start with your eye, and see how well you do.’

He grinned, watching the boy’s terror as he began to panic, his chest heaving and the knife began to draw forth a bead of blood. Tears spilled down and mingled wetly with the boy's blood, trickling down to his hairline. 

When the door behind them crashed open, the knife slipped away from his eye in surprise. The blade scratched one long line across his cheek bone, spilling blood thickly down his cheek. Recoiling, Itachi shut his eyes as three loud gun shots hammered into the man above him. The sounds of the bullets hitting the man’s flesh _thumped_ into his chest cavity. One skidded through the thin skin of his neck and landed in the wall behind, shaking the foundations of the corridor. Blood spurted hard, then weaker with each throb, pulsing with the man's heartbeat. 

His body sagged forward, his chest a raw open wound, head lolling to one side, hiding the exposed raw meat of his throat and the shattered white bone of his jaw. He fell into Itachi’s lap and the boy froze, breath hitching on a silent scream that threatened to tear through his chest but remained there – silent and stuck.

‘Itachi,’

His uncle sidestepped his two accomplices, still aiming their pistols at the man’s lifeless remains. Eventually they directed their guns at the stair well, scanning the above floor. 

‘Get to your feet.’

He crouched, shoved the man from his nephew’s lap, and hoisted him up. He was shivering, his body struggling to hold his weight. ‘You’re going to be alright Itachi, ok?’

The boy refused to look at him, and instead panicked, pushing away as he reached for the staircase banister and threw up violently. Madara stepped over the man on the floor, nonchalantly reaching for a handkerchief in his suit jacket pocket as he offered it to the boy, retching hard onto the floor.

‘I… I killed him.’

His voice was trembling, nothing more than a whisper. He spat onto the floor, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. It came away bloody. He took the handkerchief and wiped the tears and blood from the cut on his face.

‘What’s done is done,’ Madara replied carefully, placing a hand on the boy’s back. ‘We need to go. The car’s running. No doubt Orochimaru’s men would have heard those gun shots.’

‘I… I didn’t mean to – Uncle you’ve got to believe me – he said it was... said it was the only way – ’

Madara silenced him as he steered him forcefully towards the door. Their shoes stepped wetly in the blood that ebbed at the man’s body. Itachi felt himself slip a little. 

‘Your father would have understood,’ he said gently as the boy began to sob, lungs heaving as he struggled to breathe. The cold night air stung their skin as they left the abandoned apartment block, drying the tears on Itachi’s cheeks. Somewhere in the distance, a siren began to wail. The noise was the only sound in the empty streets, and Itachi found his skin crawling at the haunting cry, rising and falling rhythmically like the trapped scream in his chest. He wanted to cry. Wanted to sob and fall to his knees and lie against the ground and close his eyes and  _forget_ \- because it was all just a bad dream and in a moment he'd awake back in his bed. 

‘Get in.’

His Uncle’s words were more forceful now, and he pushed him roughly towards the open door of the black Mercedes.

Because it wasn't just a bad dream. 

Once in, the car sped away from the brutal scene lying behind them in the apartment block. Itachi wiped at the drying blood on his face, the grazed skin of his palms. He handed the old cellphone back to his Uncle, who pocketed it.

‘What’s going to happen to the others?’

Itachi asked, resting his head against the cold window. He watched the passing lights of traffic on the other side of the highway, racing past them in bright blurs of light. Reflexively he dug his nails into the skinned flesh of his palms. The pain was sharp, but he refused to let his grip ease up. 

‘You can’t see them again. You know that.’

The boy didn’t reply. Madara looked up from his emails on his phone to look at his nephew across the car. The passing lights shimmered briefly in the wet path of his tears, dripping silently into his lap.

He motioned to the driver to step on it.

 

* * *

 

Itachi awoke from his sleep in a panic. His chest heaved with every breath, sweat lined his brow and soaked into his hair. He turned, letting the covers slip down to his waist as he reached out in the darkness.

His hands touched skin.

He traced the smooth bone of Sasuke’s shoulder, rising above the thick plush covers. His fingers moved upwards, following the curve of his throat, the jawline softened in sleep, the soft hair that fell forward just in front of his ear.

The boy stirred in his sleep, shivering at Itachi’s touch and moving deeper down into the soft blankets and pillows. He moved slightly and pressed up against Itachi’s body, nestling forward until Itachi could feel the soft warmth of his breath against his chest.

_‘I just hope you know what you’re doing.’_

He breathed in the scent of the boy’s hair, letting his eyes slip closed as he relished in the feel of the boy sleeping beside him. Warm, strong, alive.

Forcing himself away from the delicious warmth of the boy beside him, Itachi swung his legs out of the futon and quietly pushed himself up to his feet. He dressed in the darkness, slipping on some loose clothes as he carefully avoided the squeaky floorboards. He cast a glance at the alarm clock sitting up on his dresser. 3:30am. He’d only had a few hours of sleep before the nightmares began.  

His body ached in a way that it only did after sex. He traced a bruise on his upper arm, the faint fingernail marks that Sasuke had left there a transient reminder of what had happened last night. Part of him wanted to slide back into bed, press up against the boy’s thin body, let him consume him all over again. Let the boy sink his teeth into him, devour him, make him _hurt_.

But he slipped silently from the bedroom, pocketing the lighter and pack of Marlboros from his dresser as he did so. The door slid effortlessly shut behind him as he made his way through the dark house, carefully following the well-trodden corridors and heading for the stairs down to the ground floor. The air outside was warm and heavy, and a quick glance upwards showed the dark underbellies of a large cloud bank, slowly creeping its way across the moon. The humidity in the air almost crackled with electricity, raising the hairs on Itachi’s arms and making him shiver. Storms around this time of year were bad, especially at the start of the typhoon season. For a moment, Itachi found himself remembering how he had watched the thunderstorms from his bedroom window as a child – ducking below the sill with every shattering thunderbolt, shaking the foundations of the old house around him. He had watched, clinging onto his curtains with white knuckles, in a mixture of fear and awe as his heart throbbed in his chest, listening to the – _gunshots_ – hammering thunder, watching the white hot flashes of the – _smoking barrel –_ lightning tear their way across the tree tops.

For now though, the rains and the thunder remained in the cloud bank, building slowly but steadily as the hours ticked by. Itachi followed the raised wooden walkways that edged the house, crossing bridges that traversed lush koi ponds and meditation gardens, littered with pale white stones and ornate bundles of grasses. 

In the far corner of the complex stood an assortment of storage buildings. Built in the same manner as the main house, many contained additional pieces of furniture often brought out for large corporate meetings held by his uncle, or the occasional antiquity; out-dated and no longer in the style of the house which his uncle had been unable to throw away. The last building, however, was Itachi’s own.

Itachi had persuaded his uncle to let him use the space as a studio. When he was younger he was allowed only 30 minutes a day for his painting and sketching. Any other free time was spent training and practicing in the dojo. Sometimes in the depths of winter he would sneak out of the house in the dead of night, hidden in the shadows as he ran through light snowfall. He would paint until his fingers went numb, until the water in his palette began to freeze and the paint refused to spread cleanly across the canvas. He would walk back to his room, following his tracks in the snow and covering them as he went, hiding his trails from the prying eyes of his uncle. The snow would feel wonderful against his bandaged feet, rubbed raw and bleeding from hours of stepping and shuffling on old wooden floorboards practicing his footwork. He even dipped his toes in the koi pond once, breaking the thin ice with his heel and soaking his wounds until his teeth chattered and the reddened skin turned blue. 

He’d moved in a long table and some old easels, had tacked sketches up on the old shoji screen panels, and soon enough the room began to feel like a small sanctuary, despite the lack of heating or any electricity. He pushed open the heavy sliding door, brushing aside some thin cobwebs with his fingers as he reached into the darkness. He felt the heavy brass lantern and pulled it forward before fumbling in his pocket for his lighter. 

Soon enough the lantern was lit, and Itachi was breathing in the acidic taste of his cigarette. He breathed in smoke and held it, letting it slip from his nostrils as he exhaled.

The room was dusty, but pleasantly warm in the heavy late-summer air. His uncle didn’t care for this small space - didn’t care for anything to do with Itachi’s art, period - and hadn’t bothered to have anybody clean it for him in his absence at University. He swept a fingertip through the dust gathering on the central table, heavy and wooden, flecked with the dried spots of paint. His sketchbooks lay in a haphazard pile on the far shelf, stray pages stuck up on the wall, an assortment of detailed studies and landscapes. There wasn’t much in the room, but it was enough. Enough of a sanctuary away from the main house, away from his uncle, away from lingering memories and nightmares that seemed to hang in the air of his bedroom, sinking into shadows and scurrying away into corners.

His phone was in his pocket. He reached for it, placing the smouldering cigarette between his teeth as he typed out a quick message. Sasuke would wake in a few hours – the moon was hidden by trees and clouds now, but a faint light had begun to tint the sky, heralding dawn. He pictured the boy, naked, warm in his futon. Extinguishing the last of his cigarette into the ground, he looked around the studio for some charcoal and a sketchbook. As the night disappeared into dawn, Itachi sat at the table and drew.

 

* * *

 

 

Sasuke woke slowly.

At first he struggled to remember exactly where he was. He had slept on a futon, not his usual western-style bed in his student room. He found himself looking at the grain pattern on the dark wooden floor close to his eyes, shining in the light of the sun that had crept around the edge of the curtain above him. He stretched, rolled onto his back, wincing as he pulled his arms up and over his eyes. He looked at the dark welt on his wrist. Reddening, almost purple.

The shape of a mouth. The slight indentations of teeth.

He touched it gingerly with a fingertip, testing the pain that lay behind the bruise. Itachi had kissed him, on the place where his heart pulsed feverishly beneath the thin skin of his wrist. He had bitten, gently - had _sucked_.

A moan escaped his throat as he startled, remembering what had happened – where he was, and exactly who with. Sitting up in the futon, he was surprised to see Itachi’s side of the bed empty. The covers were unmade and cold.

Sasuke shifted in the bed, ignoring the dull throbbing resonating through his body and lower back. His arms ached as he reached for his shirt and pants, discarded in a pile an arm’s length from the bed. As he dressed he heard the faint vibrations of his phone, lying over by the shoji screen which had been pushed aside, separating the guest room and Itachi’s bedroom.

He pushed himself up onto his feet, anxiously testing his weight as he moved carefully, feeling his body thrum deliciously with bruises and bite marks.

_Good morning. I’m in my studio – third building on the right as you look from the window. Head over when you’re awake and showered. You know where the bathroom is._

The time stamp on the text read 3:49am. Sasuke hadn’t even heard Itachi leave the room. It was now 7 – had he really been in awake for that long? Sasuke wondered nervously if it was something he’d done – if, for some reason, Itachi hadn’t wanted to sleep beside. He typed out a reply.

_Hey. I’ll shower and come over._

His phone jingled with a new message.

 _Don’t make me wait long_.

Sasuke read the message three times, feeling his heart shudder. He pulled his shirt over his head and stepped awkwardly into his pants as he held onto his phone, trying to text out a response.

_I get the impression you want to see me, Itachi._

He crossed into his guest room, vividly remembering how Itachi had pushed aside the shoji screen and kissed him in the darkness as they knelt on the cold floorboards, and grabbed a few toiletries from his opened duffel bag, sitting on the bottom of his plush futon. His phone shuddered in his hand, making him jump nervously at the text alert.

_More than anything._

Sasuke headed for the bathroom he had used the previous evening, trying hard to remember the way as he walked the labyrinth-like corridors of the main house. His heart pounded the entire way, and didn’t relent even as he stepped under the cold water of the shower.

 

* * *

 

Itachi looked up from his sketching at the sound of the shoji door sliding open. His reading glasses slipped down his nose and he took them off, closing his thick sketchbook as Sasuke hovered in the doorway. Sunlight lit him from behind, highlighted the dust that floated gently in the air from the chalks and charcoals.

‘Hey.’ The boy had dressed in the same clothes from the day before, his jeans hanging loosely off his jutting hipbones, the faded band shirt crumpled and caught under the waistband on one corner. He smelt of shampoo and green tea, and Itachi couldn’t help but beckon him forward, leaning back on his chair as he did so.

Sasuke toed his shoes off and entered the room barefoot. He could feel dust beneath his toes, a strange contrast to the clean polished floors back in the main house. The room was small, not any bigger than the armoury back the University – with most of the room taken up by the large table in its centre. Itachi had beckoned him in, removing a pair of glasses as he looked at him.

His eyes were dark and his hair roughly tied back into a looped ponytail. Half of it hung forward, escaping the tie, as if Itachi had combed his fingers along his scalp and dislodged it unknowingly. 

‘Good morning,' Itachi said gently, reaching out and taking one of his hands as he coaxed him forward, easing him up to straddle his lap. Sasuke supressed a moan as the man leant forward, kissing the exposed skin where his throat met the curve of his shoulder. The kiss was barely there – the brush of his lips just enough to tickle his skin, to taste him.

Itachi breathed in the smell of green tea soap. The boy’s skin was still damp from his shower.

‘Did you sleep well?’

He felt Sasuke hum an approval, tasting the slight shudder of his throat with his lips.

‘What about you?’ His voice was quiet, tired. 

‘I have trouble sleeping sometimes – no matter.’

Sunshine lit the studio space, and Sasuke caught sight of a large ornate lantern over Itachi’s shoulder in the far corner of the room. On the far wall, sketches and paintings on flimsy pieces of paper were tacked up with nails. They overlapped and formed a mosaic of black ink and rough charcoal drawings. From his position on Itachi’s lap, he could make out sketches of birds, detailed studies of portraiture, a woman’s hand sketched in delicate pencil.

Itachi could sense him looking.

‘I did most of those when I first moved here,’ he remarked, kissing Sasuke’s throat, speaking against the boy’s clean skin. ‘I couldn’t sleep when I first arrived, so I practiced calligraphy and sketched. Some of them turned out quite well, considering…’

Sasuke thought he heard a trace of bitterness in Itachi’s voice.

‘They’re really good.’

He trailed a hand up from Itachi’s shoulder to his hair, feeling the long messy ponytail as he pulled loose, looping strands through his fingertips. All the while he studied the drawings tacked up onto the wall, eyes drawn to the sketches of ravens taking flight – ready to soar free from the aged paper and out into the room.

‘That’s not what my Uncle said when he realised why I was feeling asleep during my zazen practice,’ Itachi smiled, leaning back so that he could look at Sasuke’s face, noticing the way he was regarding his old drawings, eyes filled with awe and admiration.

‘You’re beautiful.’

The words slipped his lips before he even realised he was speaking. They tasted strange on his tongue - maddening in their honesty, their vulnerability. He pulled Sasuke forward, kissing him hard as the words left his lips, before the boy could acknowledge his surprise and embarrassment.

Sasuke let himself melt into the kiss.

 _You’re beautiful_.

Nobody had ever told him that before. Had he misheard? Perhaps imagined those whispered words in his sleepy state – mistaken the soft voice at his throat for the creaking wooden buildings surrounding him?

But as Itachi kissed him, hot and burning in almost desperation, he _felt_ those words against him.

Pulling apart for air and breathing heavily, Sasuke reached down to Itachi’s lap and tugged at the waistband of his loose-fitting pants.

‘You’re not hurting too much?’

Itachi’s voice was soft as he slipped a hand down to the darkening bruise of the boy’s left hip, visible as his damp t-shirt rose slightly. He pressed gently with his thumb, watching Sasuke’s chest hitch, the tightening of his jaw.

‘No.’

The hand moved to his back, brushing the tender bruise on his lower spine – evidence of the way he had held the boy against the window ledge in the dojo the night before.

‘Not here?’

He watched the boy shake his head, regarding with interest the slight colour that was beginning to flush in his cheeks and at the base of his throat.

Moving back to hold the boy’s hip in one hand, steadying him, he traced the boy’s muscles with a fingertip, from the tightening abdominals under his shirt, well-defined considering how thin the boy seemed, up to feel the stark, jutting collarbones. The boy’s skin trembled as he touched another blossoming bruise.

‘Look at what we’ve done to you.’

Sasuke felt his breathing catch at the sound of Itachi’s voice, soft but edged with a sharpness that accompanied the slight smile as he spoke. He let his head fall forward slightly, biting his lip as he watched the hand move across his chest, pushing his shirt up, tracing the outline of the bruises and bite marks before pressing gently on the welt at the base of his neck. A shaky breath escaped his lips, and he thought he felt Itachi shift beneath him at the sound.

‘What are your team mates going to say about this?’ Itachi breathed hotly against the skin of Sasuke’s throat, placing his lips gently on the reddening mark. Sasuke shivered at the feeling of the smirk behind the kiss, and his fingers tightened instinctively against Itachi’s shoulders, gripping hard. 

‘Shut up,’ he muttered, losing the conviction in his voice as he struggled to hold back a moan at the feeling of Itachi’s teeth grazing the base of his throat. His blood pulsed hotly in his temples, and when he shifted in Itachi’s lap and pressed against hot, unrelenting hardness, he couldn’t help the groan of desire that escaped his lips.  

‘On the table,’ Itachi breathed, closing his eyes at the friction as Sasuke moved in his lap. The boy unwillingly stood to his feet, slowly, watching as Itachi followed him until he was backed into the table’s edge.

He lay down as Itachi tugged his jeans down slightly, just enough to catch briefly on Sasuke’s cock, making him wince. The table was cold against his back, and he felt sheets of paper crumple underneath him.

‘Your drawings…’

Itachi leant forward and kissed away his concerns, combing one hand through the boy’s damp hair as he slipped his own pants free from his hips.

Sasuke felt Itachi push against him, hot and wet, before dull pain resonated through his body. His body ached in protest, but it was a throbbing pain, hot and pulsing, and as he focused on the pain of the connection, he found himself enthralled by it.

Itachi watched through half lidded eyes as Sasuke reached down between them and touched him, hard, sinking into him. Holding the boy’s hip in one hand and clenching his fingers tight into the boy’s hair, he let himself be consumed by the body beneath him.

Leaning forward, the hand on Sasuke’s hip held him tightly against the table as he thrust hard. The angle forced Sasuke’s back to arch painfully, feeling the man above move impossibly deep within him, pushing up against something that made him want to recoil and push himself down _harder_ all at once. His head spun, eyes blinking back hot, sharp tears as he tried desperately to make Itachi push up against that spot again, groaning in delight as he shifted and felt that deep, resonating pleasure spike hard through him. 

Itachi struggled to control his breathing as the boy writhed deliciously against him, watching as his hands made fists around sheets of sketching paper; came away smudged with dark charcoal.

He leant down and kissed his open mouth, bottom lip wet and shining, inviting. 

Sasuke reached up and held onto Itachi’s shoulder as he came, untouched, hot flares of pain-pleasure spiking through his bloodstream and making him cry out, unable to help himself, unwilling to try and stop. His cries were swallowed up by Itachi's lips, searing against him, sharp teeth biting at the soft flesh of his bottom lip, sinking in.

He eased into the pain.

Effortlessly.  

As his hands slipped from the man’s shoulders to his chest, his fingertips trailed black smudges behind them. On Itachi’s pale skin, the long black lines resembled ink trails from a calligraphy brush.

He shuddered at the feeling of the man coming hard inside him. His body throbbed, as if Itachi's heartbeat had surged through his own body in one smooth, fluid movement. 

His body, supported only by the hand tight in Sasuke's hair and the one on his hipbone, tightened, his breathing laboured as he struggled to remain composed. Sasuke watched as his eyes slid shut in one long, heavy blink, eyelashes dark against his skin, his brow shining faintly with sweat. Thin strands of hair stuck to his temples which he wanted to move aside. 

When he shifted his weight, Itachi carefully pulled free from him. The air around them felt hot and humid, the smell of the green tea soap lingered in Sasuke's hair and on his skin, mingling with the smell of sweat and warm, wet earth from outside. 

'It's raining.' 

Itachi murmured against his chest, causing Sasuke to turn his head to look at the door. He'd left the shoji screen open, and thick droplets of rain were dripping down onto the dusty floorboards. He'd barely even noticed the storm clouds encroaching over the top of the complex; hadn't even recognised the faint hissing sound of rain falling lightly onto the gravel gardens outside as Itachi had fucked him, hard, on the tabletop. 

‘Sorry... about the mess,’ he groaned, catching his breath and wincing at the cool stickiness hat touched his thighs as he sat up. Charcoal and graphite shavings had smudged against his skin, leaving him with dark almost black, bruise-like markings. With the charcoal still staining his hands, he reached up and touched his fingers to Itachi’s face, tracing his thumbs against his high cheekbones. The marks left behind looked like strange war paint. 

‘I think we could both do with another shower,’ Itachi said gently, moving a fingertip through the sticky streaks on the boy’s chest. Sasuke made a noise of agreement, cricking his neck and flexing his wrists as he pushed himself up, perching on the table’s edge.

‘I’ll do us some breakfast,’ Itachi began just as the sound of an engine rumbled to life out on the far reaches of the courtyard, a deep reverberating hum over the hissing rain. Sasuke startled, hearing the noise, but Itachi kissed him reassuringly. ‘My uncle’s got a meeting in the city. It’s ok, he’ll be gone for the day. I thought we could take one of the car’s down to the lakeside after breakfast. The rain won't last long.’

‘You don’t think he saw us? Or heard us out here?’

‘This studio is too far from the house to be seen from the main entrance. Don’t worry.’

The dull rumbling of the engine faded as the car drove away, tyres crunching in the gravel drive way as the vehicle left the gated complex.

Neither Itachi nor Sasuke could have predicted that that morning, Madara would wake early for his meeting. Neither would have anticipated him making coffee, passing by the guest room and knocking on his nephew’s bedroom door. They wouldn’t have guessed that, upon being ignored, he would walk into Itachi’s room, wanting to tell his nephew of the instructions he had left him for using the car were he to leave the complex that day.

Madara hadn’t been entirely surprised by the empty futon in Itachi’s room. He had, however, been surprised by the opened shoji screen, separating the guest room from his nephew’s private quarters.

The guest bed was still made, as if it hadn’t even been slept in.

Driving away from the complex, windscreen wipers blurring the rain momentarily in each sweep, Madara’s hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were white as he followed the road down from the hilltop and into the bustling city.

‘Itachi,’ he breathed, casting a glance in his rear view mirror as the gated complex disappeared behind him under the thick forests and misty rain. 

‘You’ll be the end of that boy.’

* * *

 

 _Pleasures remain._  
_So does the pain._  
 _Words are meaningless -_  
 _And forgettable._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooo much for reading this recent installment! How long has it been? (Over a year?! Where has that time gone!) I'm so sorry for the delay! I've been in my final year of University and have been tapping away at this story on and off - I had some awful writer's block which rendered me writing useless crap for months. I'm just breaking through that block now, and was determined to get something (hopefully half decent) out for everybody as a thank-you for sticking with me for so long. I was thinking of writing some one-shots and drabbles, but wasn't sure if anybody would like to read those whilst waiting for me to get through my writers block - so I held off posting anything! Give me a shout if you would like to read some? This chapter was an atmospheric one for me. I had some scenes in my mind I really wanted to try and get down onto paper - so I'm sorry if the story didn't advance too much in this piece! I'm reluctant to write what will happen next, as things are going to start taking a turn, and I don't want to torment the characters too much! However, what must be done, must be done. I read every one of your comments and love your feedback. It means so much that this little idea for a story is so well received and enjoyed by you! Especially as I'm aware the fandom for Naruto (and ItaSasu) is nowhere near as big as it once was. We ItaSasu fans must stick together! The next chapter is in the works and hopefully won't be long. I go to Japan in two weeks time for a holiday, but will keep writing! Much love! (Also, ten points to anyone who recognises the song lyrics! Lacuna Coil's cover was a very influential piece for this writing. Go and give it a listen!) x


	10. Chapter 10

_How can I decide what's right,_  
_When you're clouding up my mind?_  
 _I can't win your losing fight,_  
 _All the time._

* * *

 

Breakfast consisted of delicate slices of salmon, steaming cups of savoury miso soup, simmered tofu, and small bowls of rice. Sasuke watched as Itachi prepared it, his fingers moving delicately as he sliced the fish and gathered small ceramic bowls from a high shelf. Sasuke watched the way the sleeves of his cream yukata robes slipped from his wrists as he reached up, exposing the sharp jut of wrist bone.

The old house creaked around them as the sky hung heavy with thick clouds, threatening rain. Sasuke stood beside an old shoji screen and watched the koi swimming in the nearby pond. The forest loomed in the distance, shrouded in heavy mist so thick he couldn’t make out the tops of the trees. It made Sasuke shiver, and he rubbed his arms beneath the thick yukata robe.

They ate in contented silence, sitting at a low wooden table with a typical lowered fireplace in its centre. A decorative cast-iron teapot hung suspended over hot coals, which Itachi stoked every now and then with a metal rod, stirring up the bright embers. Sasuke watched as he did so. He found his eyes drawn to the soft bump of his throat when he swallowed his tea – the way his yukata slipped slightly as he lifted his bowl, exposing a glimpse of his pale chest. The way his fingers held his chopsticks and lifted each bite of fish to his lips.

Itachi looked up and caught his gaze. Hiding his embarrassment, he quickly took a mouthful of hot tea and looked away, feeling the heat in his cheeks rise not just from the steam of the hot cup. Itachi made a slight noise in the back of his throat, as if of amusement, before he lowered his empty bowl. The chopsticks clinked delicately against the ceramic as he placed them down and beckoned Sasuke over with a slight gesture of his head.

Sasuke raised himself up on his knees and crawled over, straddling Itachi’s lap and burying his hands into his hair, scratching at his scalp. He felt insatiable, and as he breathed in the man’s scent, he found himself exhaling the man’s name over and over again, hot against the skin of his neck.

He loved the shape of his name on his lips.

‘You need to rest this body,’ Itachi breathed, sliding a hand down from Sasuke’s hips to his lower back, tapping a finger at the base of his spine knowingly. He smiled at the way the boy let out a shaky breath, annoyance perhaps, and bit down into the crook of his throat. Itachi let his eyes slide shut briefly at the sharp scratch of teeth, relishing in the brief pain that sent a longing shiver across his skin.

He coaxed Sasuke’s face up to meet his own with one hand. ‘We can do this when you’re rested.’ He kissed the frowning lips, hushing any complaints. ‘In the meantime…’

He cast a glance down the boy’s groin trapped between them, bumping up against his stomach through the heavy layers of cotton.

‘We can do something about this.’

Slipping the knot free from Sasuke’s stomach, he slipped a hand beneath the yukata’s folds. He touched him with a fingertip, feeling his body jolt and strain up to meet his touch, until he was kneeling above Itachi’s lap.

Sasuke watched as Itachi coaxed him forwards slightly, just enough so that as he lay backwards, he could pull the boy forward almost up to kneel over his shoulders.

With one hand on his lower back, Itachi pressed the boy forwards until he bumped up against his mouth. Sasuke groaned and bit his lip hard, sliding forward to place a palm on the floor beside Itachi’s head, watching with mild fascination as his cock nudged up against the man’s mouth. He choked out a moan of delight as Itachi’s lips kissed him, just enough to tantalise - warm, soft, smirking – feeling his eyes on him, watching him intently. The thought made him shudder and he couldn’t help but scratch his nails against the rough tatami floor for purchase.

‘Enjoying this?’ Itachi chuckled, licking at the precum that nudged against the corner of his mouth, watching as Sasuke’s eyes followed the movement. Pushing himself up with one hand, he gritted his teeth and tugged one hand through Itachi’s loose hair splayed across the pale tatami mats, scratching his nails against the skin of his scalp as he tightened his fist in the tresses. He tugged up, watching in delight as his mouth nudged up against his pretty lips, relishing in the way Itachi’s eyes lifted up slowly to meet his own. He blinked, long and slow, as if defiant. As if enjoying the treatment.

‘Don’t mock me,’ Sasuke managed to breathe out, watching the way the man’s lips parted, glistening wet as he licked them, so close to his cock now that Sasuke could feel his breath hot against him.

‘Never.’ Itachi’s eyes shone with a darkened interest at the rough treatment of the boy’s trembling hands. Tugging him closer, Sasuke bit out a gasp of delight as he sank into his mouth, hot and wet as his lips closed around him. He felt his lips, the dangerous edge of his teeth, the dizzying heat of his tongue brushing up against the head and _circling –_

‘God – ’

He muttered the word between clenched teeth, breathing hard as he tugged again, feeling himself sink a little further into the heat of Itachi’s mouth. _Itachi’s mouth_.

His chest ached and his heart gave a painful thump behind his ribs. Pulling back gently, he watched as he slid from beneath Itachi’s reddening lips, listening to him breathe hard. A glistening wet string connected them briefly before falling onto Itachi’s chin. He turned his head slightly into Sasuke’s grip, coaxing him to tighten his fists and tug at his hair as he looked up at him. Their eyes met and Sasuke held back a choked groan, unable to look away.

Letting one hand slip from his grip in Itachi’s hair, he let his fingers press against the stiffening tent in Itachi’s lap, holding him through the fabric of his pants. He felt the thrum of a groan against his cock as Itachi pulled him back into his mouth, and his body gave a shudder as the sound trembled against his hot skin.

A wet tongue moved against him, pushing deliciously into the very tip and coaxing hot, sticky wetness forth. Slipping from his mouth, Itachi breathed against him.

‘Sasuke.’

His name was breathed out on an exhale. He felt Itachi’s body move up beneath him, pushing harder into the hand that teased him through the fabric of his robe.

‘I can’t..,’ Sasuke breathed, cheeks reddening as he watched his cock bob against the man’s wet lips. He couldn’t finish his sentence, choking on his own words as he imagined the sight of Itachi’s face dripping with his own release.

Itachi’s eyes locked with his own.

‘Come, then.’

His words were an order, and Sasuke found himself helpless to obey. His fingers clenched at the long black hair, tight in his hand as he came fast and hard, his back arching forward. He watched through half-lidded eyes as he came, rivulets of white flicking up and onto Itachi’s mouth, his cheek, dripping down to slip from his chin. The sight enthralled him, and he couldn’t supress a groan as he felt Itachi stiffen and come in his hand, dampening the cotton that separated them.

He sank breathlessly to his heels, releasing Itachi’s hair that he had knotted in his grip.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, tearing his eyes away from the messy sight before him as he looked for something to clean up with.

‘Don’t apologise,’ Itachi said with a soft smile, ignoring the boy’s embarrassment as he pulled a finger across his chin and sucked it clean. Sasuke watched, enthralled.

‘You taste delicious, you know.’

‘Don’t be embarrassing,’ he bit back, trying to ignore how arousing it was to hear Itachi say that as he licked the cooling wetness from the corner of his mouth. His lips were red and delightfully bruised, and Sasuke couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss them as Itachi propped himself up on his elbows.

‘Let’s get dressed,' Itachi said as they broke apart from the kiss. 'I want to take you down to the lakeside.’

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting in the passenger seat in the silver Mercedes, Sasuke opened his window and leaned out. Forests rushed past, growing sparser as they followed the winding road down the hillside and away from the complex. They passed small road-side shrines, hidden by overgrown foliage and crumbling stone walls. The wind blew against his hair, warm and humid – signally the approaching storm that was supposed to hit Kyoto prefecture that evening. Itachi had wanted to take him to lake Biwa before the storm came and confined them to the house – although, Sasuke thought to himself as he watched the forests open up and expose the glittering surface of the lake down below them, being trapped in the house with Itachi hadn’t seemed like the worst idea in the world. He shifted in the plush leather seat, wincing as he felt his body ache. He wondered if he’d get used to the ache after sex – and at the same time, wondered if he really, _truly_ minded. 

To his right, Itachi shifted the car into gear and thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel rhythmically. With his free hand he reached over and lightly touched Sasuke’s knee. Sasuke turned from the window and looked at the man beside him, his dark sunglasses perched up on the top of his head, his grey t-shirt tucked loosely into his black denim jeans. For an outfit he had thrown together somewhat haphazardly, Sasuke watching from the futon as he had tugged his underwear up his pale thighs, he seemed to ooze effortless sophistication. Just like how he turned up to campus on the first day, waving off his chauffeur as he shrugged his leather jacket around his shoulders and lit a cigarette.

‘We’ll park up over there.’

Sasuke followed Itachi’s finger, pointing over at a small collection of cars nestled by the edge of the lake in the distance.

‘There’s hot springs here and some local shops, hopefully we can get a few hours in before the storm comes.’

Sasuke nodded, leaning back in his seat and propping his head up on his hand against the window. He lazily entwined his fingers with Itachi’s free hand, feeling the bones of his knuckles. Itachi’s thumb came up to stroke against his own, and he felt himself easing into warm bliss in the afternoon sunlight.

They parked up the Mercedes, gaining a few interested glances from passers-by as they stepped out and pulled on their jackets. Sasuke felt oddly self-conscious in his faded band shirt and crumpled grey jeans, but Itachi grasped a hold of his hand and tugged him along to walk beside him, as if encouraging him to ignore the concern.

He could read him like a book.

 

* * *

 

 

The lake shore was bustling with people. Tourists pulled up in coaches and small mini vans, jostling with families and small children clutching cones of ice cream and sparkling, glass bottles of ramune. Vendors along the lake edge were selling grilled oysters, smoking hot in their gnarled shells above red hot coals; sticky skewers of sweet dango, glistening in sweet soy; small squares of pink jelly, perfectly wrapped and packaged into beautiful omiyage boxes.

Sasuke was used to the hustle and bustle of the old town just beyond Konoha Daigaku, but this felt different. Maybe it was just being in the south, but everything here felt leisurely – even the water of the lake seemed to take its time slowly lapping at the pebbled shoreline.

They stopped and bought some lunch, small skewers of grilled chicken and some of the dango that Itachi had seen earlier, before sitting down on the shoreline. Maybe it was the sunlight reflecting off the lake, but for some reason Sasuke found himself reaching up to press against his temples, easing a nagging headache that seemed to be growing.

Itachi caught sight of the action and pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, looking at Sasuke with concern.

‘You feeling ok?’ He slipped the last of the dango skewer between his lips and chewed on the dumpling, waiting for a response. Sasuke shrugged, waving off Itachi’s concern. Nearby, a small group of children ran splashing into the water, kicking up arcs of droplets as they laughed and shouted. The pain in his head ebbed a little, and he found himself wondering if he’d ever been to the lake before. For some reason, the reflection of the sunlight on the water seemed to remind him of something – of somewhere.

‘It’s nothing. Just a headache.’

Itachi twirled the empty skewer between his fingers, thoughtful, as he watched the boy beside him. ‘Maybe you could do with a swim,’ he suggested, pushing himself up from the pebbles and grabbing the jacket he’d been sitting on. ‘There’s a really good onsen nearby – it’ll probably do your body some good.’ The implication behind his words seemed to linger as he extended a hand down to Sasuke, who reached up and took it.

 ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said, letting Itachi tug him to his feet.

 The walk to the onsen was only a few minutes stroll along the lake’s edge, and they walked there in comfortable silence. Itachi led the way, reaching back to hold Sasuke’s hand. His fingers were cold as they entwined together.  ‘The mountains here are filled with hot springs,’ Itachi explained as he pointed out numerous onsen establishments along the lake shore. ‘My uncle’s house draws up the hot water from the ones near the complex, but down here by the lake they’re supposedly more mineral-rich.’ He smirked as the boy raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I always preferred them.’

Following a small alley that branched off from the main promenade, Sasuke found his curiosity piqued. The buildings were nearly all wooden, typical of the old capital’s style, and many bore big red lanterns by their entryways. Here the streets were cobbled and ancient, devoid of many tourists.

Pausing by a large wooden gateway, Itachi reached in his jacket pocket and fumbled for a moment before producing a wooden key. Sasuke couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. ‘Perks of your family name?’ He asked, noticing Madara’s initials inscribed on the small plaque which Itachi inserted into the gateway. ‘You could say that,’ he replied, unlocking the door and sliding it open. He led Sasuke through the opened screen, pushing through a half-curtain that bore the kanji for hotspring printed on the billowing fabric. He toed off his smart loafers and Sauke followed suit, following Itachi across damp wooden slats as they walked through a small ornamental garden. The main onsen house wasn’t a large building by any means, but Sasuke knew from Itachi’s taste, let alone his uncle’s, that only the most exquisite luxury awaited inside. Madara wouldn’t have private access to just any onsen.  

They stepped up onto the raised walkway of the bath house and Itachi ushered him inside. It was dark and warm, the air lightly perfumed with jasmine incense. ‘You can take off your clothes in there,’ Itachi said gently, giving his cold fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go, almost reluctantly, Sasuke thought. He gestured to a row of small changing rooms over by the far side of the bath house entry way. ‘The main bath is through this door,’ he said, motioning towards an opened shoji screen which billowed soft clouds of steam. ‘I’ll meet you there in a few minutes,’ he reached in his jeans pocket and pulled out his cell phone, eyes lingering on the screen that flashed with a missed call alert. ‘I’ve just got to return this call, ok?’

Sasuke nodded, already unbuttoning the fly on his jeans. He watched as Itachi’s eyes caught the movement and held him in his gaze, his phone momentarily forgotten as he watched the boy’s fingers worked on the buttons, exposing a small glimpse of skin.

‘Don’t make me wait long, ok?’ He found himself saying, as he pulled his crumpled t-shirt off over his head and afforded Itachi a long gaze at his torso. An odd thrill of power made his stomach flip, watching as Itachi’s eyes darkened with longing he didn't even try to hide.

‘Never.’ He smiled at the boy before tapping a few numbers into his phone, unlocking the screen as he lifted the phone to his ear and stepped back outside, out of sight.

Sasuke twirled the shirt in his hands and headed over to one of the open changing rooms. There was enough space inside for his rucksack and clothes to be stored safely while he was in the bath, along with some complimentary towels and assorted body lotions in tiny decorative bottles. Sasuke placed his shirt on one of the hooks and stepped out of his jeans and underwear, catching sight of the bite mark on his inner thigh which was paling now, but still echoing the shape of Itachi’s mouth. In a few days, the bruises and bite marks would fade. For the best of course, considering how he’d be showering and changing with the guys after kendo practice.

He pressed a fingertip into the bruise, testing the ache. It didn’t hurt much, and Sasuke found himself feeling strangely disappointed.

 _Get over yourself_.

He pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed at his temples, feeling the pain creeping into his head again, just above his ear.

_This can’t continue when you go back to campus. Itachi will have to go back to his studies, back to his friends, and eventually back to Akatsuki Daigaku. You’re crazy if you think this can carry on._

‘Fuck,’ he muttered, hoping that no other patrons of the hot spring had heard him. He glanced out of the cubicle as he wrapped the small modesty towel around his waist, surprised to find that there seemed to be no other customers. Maybe it was so exclusive that not many people had general access. Crossing over the glistening wooden floors, he headed for the steaming doorway that led out to the baths. There was no sign of Itachi in the small shower room – in fact, he had the place to himself. Washing himself quickly with one of the shower heads by a lowered wooden bench, he hurried to ease himself into the deep, steaming waters of the bath, tossing the towel up onto the side of the pool. 

The waters were deep, and Sasuke breathed out in delight as he submerged himself, relishing in the stinging heat as his skin began to turn lobster pink.

The bath house was unlike any he’d been to before. Sometimes his kendo team would stop by the local onsen during the winter months when the campus had been snowed under – but that was more of a communal bath than anything else. Looking around, Sasuke couldn’t help but admire the traditional architecture of the building – from the lowered mahogany ceilings, to the artisan mosaics of cranes and lotus flowers adorning the far wall. A faint breeze cooled the beads of sweat on his damp hairline, and he curiously swam over to the far side of the pool. There was an opening in the wall, hidden slightly behind two large ornamental pieces of stone. Intrigued, he pushed his body through the gap and swam outside.

The onsen opened up to a beautiful open-air pool, shrouded by decorative reeds and flowers. A high rockery shielded the hidden bath from view of any overlooking buildings, and offered up a beautiful glimpse at the sky overhead. Sasuke couldn’t see the sun directly – it must’ve been later than he imagined. For the briefest of moments he found himself wishing he could slow down time. Just for a few hours. Just to prolong this moment – here, in this city, in this place.

‘You ok there kiddo?’

Itachi’s voice sent a luscious shiver down his spine, even beneath the hot water. He couldn’t turn to face him. He could only look up at the sky, praying to any god that might be listening to never let this feeling, this moment, end.

Itachi swam up behind him, stopping to stand in the water and place his lips to the crook of Sasuke’s neck. He kissed him gently, enjoying how the boy tilted his neck to allow him a little more access, tasting the gentle sound of approval hum beneath the soft skin of his throat.

‘I told you this would help,’ he said against the boy’s skin, placing his hands on Sasuke’s shoulders and massaging the tight muscles with his thumbs. ‘You’re not hurting too much, are you?’

 _I’m not hurting enough_.

The words hung on Sasuke’s tongue. He bit them back, shaking his head.

 _Hurt me so that I can’t forget you when this is all over_.

‘I don’t want this to change.’

Itachi turned the boy around to face him, noticing how he refused to look up from the steaming water.

‘It doesn’t have to.’

‘But it will. We can’t keep this up – you’ll go back to your University at the end of term, and I’ll…’

Itachi lifted his chin with two fingers, cupping the boy’s face delicately in his fingers. ‘You’ll go on to do great things. No matter where I am. And if you don’t want this to change, then we’ll make it work. I'll find a way.’

He breathed against the boy’s forehead, coaxing his mouth up ever so slightly as he spoke. ‘I’m not playing around with you, Sasuke.’

Sasuke felt his voice brush against his lips, and he found himself unable to hold back as he wrapped his arms up around Itachi’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him, hard. Their lips met and he melted, anxiously tugging at the man’s long hair which had gotten wet from his brief shower. 

‘Please,’ he breathed against Itachi’s mouth, biting down onto his bottom lip with enough force to break the soft pink flesh.

Itachi complied, not needing to know what Sasuke was begging for. Easing the boy over to the side of the pool, he pushed him up against the decorative cobble stones.

‘Turn around.’

Sasuke let out an unashamed breath, shaky, twisting himself around so that his toes touched the bath floor with his shoulders and chest just above the water line. A hand on the back of his neck firmly edged him forward, so that he was almost leaning over the pool’s stone edge. His nipples pushed up against the cold stone and he bit back a wince, shaking his head to stop the cries as fingers crept around his chest and stroked at them, tugging. 

‘I can do whatever you like,’ Itachi breathed against him, hand still holding the boy against the rocks. ‘Just tell me.’

Sasuke fought the groan of excitement that swelled in his throat, breathing out hard and watching his breath fog momentarily in the cooling evening air. He was hard already, it didn’t seem to take much being around the man behind him, and he winced at the friction as he bumped against the pool’s edge.

‘I want _you_ ,’ he breathed hotly, groaning as Itachi leant forward slightly, grinding his own arousal into the small of Sasuke’s back under the hot water.

‘To do what?’

His voice was maddening – soft, gentle, yet with a dangerous edge to it that seemed to drip from his tongue. He smirked against the exposed skin of Sasuke’s shoulder and he _felt_ it. Sasuke’s mind flitted momentarily back to the first night in Kyoto, where Itachi had forced him up against the dojo wall – slamming him into the jutting window frame and holding him there with the shinai. How he had struck him over and over again in practice, bruising him and forcing him to submit – to learn.

‘… to make it hurt.’

His words were barely a whisper – a weak admission of his deepest, most shameful desire – wanting nothing more than for the enigmatic, stoic Itachi to bend him to the point of breaking, to consume him and devour him and bruise him. He needed it. God, did he need it.

Itachi seemed to pause, as if thinking, moving only to kiss Sasuke’s ear and stroke his damp hair back against his scalp.

‘If that’s what you want.’

His fingers dug in tight to the boy’s hair, surprising Sasuke at the biting pain as those painted nails caught sharply against his scalp. He let his head twist to the side as Itachi’s free hand moved to scratch him, sliding his fingertips carefully along the exposed skin of his throat, bumping painfully over his adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

‘You’re going to enjoy this.’

Sasuke nodded, not entirely sure if it was a question or a demand spoken hotly against his throat.  Either way he knew it was the truth. How could he not delight in the pain caused by the artist’s beautiful hands? He flinched at the bite to his neck, hard enough to mark, and at the feeling of sharp nails raking down over his shoulders. He arched into the scratching, delighting in the hot burn that was almost unmistakable from the hot waters lapping at his chest.

Feeling Itachi moving behind him, he moaned out a complaint at the lack of the man’s arousal, disappearing from pressing into his back as he seemed to be reaching around for something. Sasuke caught sight of him reaching into a small wooden container up on the pool side – there were a few of them he noticed, scattered around the edge of the water.

‘Mineral salts,’ Itachi said carefully as he returned to Sasuke’s back with a handful of salt crystals. Sasuke knew what was coming but still struggled to maintain his cries, arching his back painfully as Itachi rubbed the therapeutic salts across his back and shoulders, catching the granules into the fresh scratches and deep bite marks.

‘Good?’

Sasuke mewled out an incoherent noise of approval, uncaring of how wanton and lewd his own voice sounded. He couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t even _see_ straight – the sky was darkening overhead with thick clouds as the sun began to set, shrouding the onsen in an eerie, steamy light. His skin burned deliciously and as he writhed he bumped backwards, pushing up against Itachi and relishing in the sharp intake of breath from the man behind him.

Itachi’s hands were back in his hair, pulling and tugging to expose his neck and allow him to kiss the corner of his wet lips, mouth helplessly agape as he breathed heavily. He felt teeth sink into his bottom lip, returning the favour, breaking the skin and forcing Sasuke to taste copper on his tongue. He swept a finger across the boy’s bottom lip, enjoying the shudder as he first tasted salt, and then tasted sharp heat from the blossoming pain. White-hot and sore.

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Sasuke bit out, licking at the salt that Itachi's had eased into the bite on his lip, pushing backwards and enticing him to stop delaying the inevitable. He knew it would hurt, having not recovered from the sex earlier that morning, but he didn’t care. He gasped out, unable to stop the cry as he felt Itachi push into him, one hand holding his hip tightly as he coaxed the boy's sprawled legs apart.

‘God, Sasuke…’ Itachi managed to breathe out against the boy’s wet hair. He pressed in hard, unable to tell the heat of the boy’s body apart from the searing water around them. It was as if the boy had melted around him, his body no longer a physical being but molten.

‘ _Please_ ,’ Sasuke groaned, unable to finish his sentence – unable to beg for Itachi to not hold back, to consume him, to make him come so hard he could barely stand. Itachi’s hand slipped up his throat to clasp down tightly over his pleading mouth, forcing him to stay quiet as he fucked him rhythmically against the hard stone wall.

Pressing up hard against his prostate, Sasuke fought back the urge to fight Itachi off. The pleasure was so much that it was hurting him – making him writhe up against the stone, unable to make a sound except a weak murmur in his throat, letting Itachi know he was doing well – that he was bringing him closer and closer with every unforgiving thrust.

‘Not yet,’ Itachi managed to bite out, sliding a hand forward to reach between them under the water, holding onto Sasuke’s cock tightly at the base and squeezing almost painfully hard.

‘You _said_ you wanted it to hurt,’ he said, smiling against the boy’s hairline as his hand silenced the muffled cry of indignation.

Helplessly Sasuke fought the throes of his orgasm, curling his toes beneath the water as he struggled for breath beneath Itachi’s hand, trying desperately to ignore the building pressure deep within him as his prostate was hit with every thrust. When Itachi’s hand left his mouth he gasped for air, sucking in warm steam through his wet lips – enjoying the brief moment of luxury before that same hand tightened at the base of his throat, forcing his head back so that he was unable to take in a breath.

Itachi released his cock from his grip and Sasuke came hard under the water, choking on air, the lack of oxygen sending his orgasm thumping through his body. He could feel Itachi come deep within him, pulsing in his veins and making him dizzy.

Almost immediately Itachi’s hands released from his throat and he was pulling out of him, turning the boy around to face him. He kissed him hard, breathing words against his mouth, asking him if he was ok, if he felt alright, if he could do anything.

‘I’m…fine,’ Sasuke replied, voice weak and trembling as his body began its slow descent from his orgasmic high. The onsen water was searing around his chest and waist, and he carefully lifted himself out of the water to sit up on the pool’s edge. Itachi came forward and rested his head against Sasuke’s thigh, wrapping his arms up and around the boy’s narrow waist as he too struggled for breath.

‘Thank god nobody else was here,’ Itachi muttered against his thigh, biting playfully and making Sasuke punch his shoulder lightly. Sasuke went to make a sarcastic reply, but was caught off guard by the sudden rumble of thunder that crept across the sky above them.

‘I guess we should make a move back.’

Sasuke nodded, leaning forward to kiss the top of Itachi’s head in his lap. As much as he wanted to stay here all night, he knew the storm was approaching. Catching sight of a dark mark on Itachi’s arm, hidden just out of sight, he reached out and touched it curiously.

‘I didn’t realise you had tattoos.’

The black swirl was hidden well, following the inner curve of his left bicep. Sasuke was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before.

‘I don’t make it a matter of showing everyone,’ he replied quietly, turning his arm to expose the mark a little better. He made a noise as he examined it, as if of disgust or annoyance.

Something about his tone of voice seemed off. Whether it was tiredness or sarcasm, Sasuke found it hard to tell. The tattoo was a strange shape, the top half formed a symbol similar to a number six, while a long flick trailed from the bottom. It wasn’t very big, and the placement seemed strange, as if Itachi had been planning to incorporate other designs but had never continued them.

He watched as Itachi closed his eyes and swept a few damp strands of hair away from his face. ‘A foolish mistake when I was younger,’ he said gently, coaxing the boy down from the pool side and back into the hot waters. ‘Let’s get going.’

The conversation was settled then, and Sasuke reluctantly knew to not press the topic further. Slipping from the onsen, Sasuke followed Itachi back to the changing rooms just as the first few beads of rain began to fall from the clouds overhead, rippling across the pool and bouncing off the rocks.

 

* * *

 

 

Itachi carefully washed the ceramic bowls lying in the sink from their breakfast earlier that morning. The bowls clinked gently against the polished mosaic tiles, and he flicked hot suds from his fingertips as he left them to one side to dry. Outside, thunder clapped and blue light momentarily flooded the gloomy gardens and walkways with a flash. The rains were still light, but already the old guttering was beginning to drip heavily and form puddles underneath the raised walkways.

When they returned back to the house, Sasuke had wanted to spend a bit of time practicing in the dojo. Their flight back to Sapporo left tomorrow morning after all. Itachi had agreed, letting him use the shinai and heavy practicing dummies as he slid them across the dojo floor. He’d watched the boy wrap his legs and feet in white training bandages, winding the roll around his thin ankles and jutting calf muscles.

He left the boy alone for a while, wanting nothing more than to reach out and crush his body towards him, to rip those bandages and slide his tight training pants from his hips – but he resisted, knowing how important the practice meant to him. Despite his strange combination of cockiness and - at times crippling – self-doubt, the kid showed great drive and a thirst to be the best. He was power hungry in a way which surprised Itachi, which reminded of himself at times when he had been forced to train relentlessly.

On the kitchen table, his phone jingled with a new message. He wiped his damp hands on his jeans and left the sink to read the text.

_Is he still complaining of headaches?_

It was from his uncle.

_I’m not sure. I took him to the onsen at lake Biwa and he didn’t mention it again._

He tapped out his reply and hit send, watching the message fold itself up into a pixelated envelope and shoot off the screen. _Mind you_ , he thought as he remembered the way he had forced the boy into submissive silence up against the pool side, _he wouldn’t have been able to say much anyway_. He drummed a clean chopstick against the kitchen table.

The boy’s headaches had worried him. Only one side of his temple, just above his right ear. He used to suffer with bad migraines and headaches when he was younger, he’d told Itachi as they sat on the lake side and threw pebbles into the lapping waves. He hadn’t had any for years, and seemed surprised to be feeling them creep back into his temples again. He blamed it on the lake’s reflection and the glaring September sun, but as Itachi nodded in reassuring agreement, he couldn’t help the concern from growing deep within him.

 _You need to be careful_.

The new reply pinged up on the phone screen, followed swiftly by another.

_This trip might be too much for him._

Itachi hesitated before tapping out a reply.

_I don’t want to mess this up._

A new message came through.

_You knew what you were doing the moment you decided to go to Konoha Daigaku. With or without my advice, you decided to go anyway. You’ve known all along what a dangerous game you’re playing._

He slammed his hand holding the delicate chopstick down onto the tabletop, wincing as it broke and splintered in two under the impact of his fist. He swore between gritted teeth, picking the sharp splinters from his palm and tossing them into the sink.

He knew what he was doing. He didn’t need his uncle to be chastising him – and yet, that growing concern continued to blossom deep in his gut, making his skin crawl. Sasuke had asked about his tattoo, and he knew that he hadn’t been wholly satisfied with his cagey answer. He tugged his t-shirt sleeve up to look at it himself, pushing his thumb against the black swirl with contempt.

He’d only been twelve years old when his father had taken him to have it done. He’d pleaded and cried in the car, unable to help himself even when his father regarded him with disgust in the mirror. ‘It’s necessary,’ his father had said, parking the car in a secluded alleyway somewhere deep within Tokyo’s grimy underbelly, pushing him into the tattoo parlour that masqueraded as a small drinking bar.

Itachi recalled how he had to be forcibly restrained by two assistants. “Hold him still,” the irezumi artist had said sharply, ignoring the boy’s pleas and tears. He had lain face down, cheeks wet and slipping on the leather padding of the table top as the men forced him down, restricting his movements as the artist came up and exposed his arm. Itachi had watched in horror as he tugged on a pair of black gloves, shining wetly with antiseptic gel. The tebori tool was plucked from the end of the table, a sharpened bamboo stick, tapered like a stake with a cluster of metal needles at the end, glistening in black ink. “This isn’t going to be over quickly,’ he had said as he lined up the edge of the needles with the soft flesh of Itachi’s upper arm, “so I suggest you get comfortable and make this easy for me.” The words were a thinly veiled threat, and Itachi had forced back the biting pain as the bamboo rod chiselled into his arm over and over again, mixing his blood with black ink.

Even now, the tattoo seemed to itch and burn at the memory. Looking from the kitchen window, Itachi saw the dojo lights flicker gently in the distance. Sasuke had been practicing for a good couple of hours now. The white gravel gardens shimmered wetly under the rain, lit only by the hanging lanterns that swung from the corners of the bridges and the house’s covered walkway.

He moved to finish stacking the last of the bowls and mugs, planning to head over to the dojo and see how the kid was feeling.

Outside, the rain began to fall faster.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke sank to the floor in a heap, chest heaving for breath as he let the shinai clatter from his hands. The weighty weapon struck the floor with force as he tried to catch his breath, pushing himself up onto his knees and wincing at the blisters forming at the base of his fingertips.

He was exhausted, but slowly he could sense himself improving. Remembering Itachi’s words and instruction, to move and expect the opponent’s own moves, to anticipate and pressure the enemy to doubt their own techniques, to plant the seed of an expected movement to turn the game in his own favour. His accuracy was improving as well – something he knew Neji would have approved of had he been here to watch him strike the points on the heavy training dummy.

He curled his toes against the bandages, easing out a cramp which threatened to seize up in his calf muscle.

A loud clap of thunder shook the dojo as lightning ripped across the clouds outside, illuminating the zen gardens and koi ponds in an eerie blue light for the briefest of moments, before it was plunged into gloomy darkness. Sasuke winced and pushed a sore, blistered hand to the side of his head, surprised to feel a flaring pain shoot up his skull. He’d been having the headaches on and off all day, and now they were starting to make him feel nauseous. For some reason, the morning at the lake had reminded him of something from his childhood – maybe a trip he had taken with his mother at some point, although he couldn’t quite recall. His memory felt hazy, as if the trip to Kyoto had been such some of intense fever-dream.

His head gave a sharp thump of pain and he flinched. Maybe he just needed some air.

Pushing up to his feet, he used the shinai as leverage as he tested the muscle in his calf, feeling the cramp ease as he moved over towards one of the large sliding doors in the dojo. It slid open, amplifying the noise of the rain as Sasuke stepped out under the shelter of the jutting roof. The air was warm and sticky, the rain not so much cooling the air as it was steaming it. September nights in the north of Japan were never this humid, Sasuke thought as he tugged at his shirt collar and wiped dampness from his forehead. The shinai was heavy in his hands, and it was almost difficult to catch his breath, the storm having descended thickly, settling over the misty forests and the large, sprawling house on the hilltop.

He followed the edge of the dojo, keeping under the sheltered walkway which linked the training area to other numerous outbuildings. He passed a small koi pond and paused for a moment, watching the rain bounce from the glistening lily pads and splash into the rippling water. He nudged one of the blooming flowers with the shinai, watching as it bobbed heavily with collected rain and spilled into the rippling pond.

Having lived in Tokyo before he moved up to Konoha Daigaku, his family had never had space for a garden, let alone a koi pond – and yet he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable notion that he’d seen gardens like this somewhere before, somewhere when he was much younger. Had he been out on a day trip somewhere? When his father was alive, perhaps? But he would’ve been far too young to have remembered anything from that time – he was only a couple of years old when his father died in the accident. Try as he might, he’d never been able to recall any memories of his father before his death. He’d spent time before he moved to University, tracing the outline of his father’s face in photographs in an album his mother had made. Trying his best to remember but finding himself unable to.

Even still, Sasuke couldn’t shake the odd sense of familiarity. He shook his head to try and clear his mind, stretching his legs as he continued to walk slowly along the edge of the dojo. The hot spring had helped to loosen some of his weary muscles, but his body resonated a deep ache at the memory of Itachi’s hands. On his throat, on his neck, clawing at his skin.

Unknowingly, he had followed the covered path to the small cluster of old outbuildings and storage rooms in the corner of the gardens. The forest loomed over them, providing a little relief from the hammering rain as thunder continued to crack and rumble overhead. One was Itachi’s art studio, Sasuke remembered, and he found himself sliding open the old door and stepping inside.

The brass lantern in the corner burned slow and dim, allowing a little light into the room as the flame flickered and faded gently. Had Itachi been in here earlier?

He left the door open as he stepped in, his bandaged feet leaving damp footprints in the dust. The large table that Itachi had fucked him on stood in the centre of the room, almost accusingly, and he walked around its edge, unable to help himself reaching out and pulling his fingers across its top. The wood was cleared of Itachi’s sketches and drawings, and Sasuke felt his fingers brush hardened drops of paint and the light dust of charcoal. His fingertips came away dark and smudged.

The walls were covered in yellowing sheets of paper, tacked up with nails and overlapping, their corners curling upwards in the damp. Sasuke approached them to look closer – examining the fine detailed sketches of landscapes, the pen and ink studies of the human body, the soft chalk lines of still life. He used the shinai to lift the corners slightly, stealing a glimpse at the paintings lying hidden beneath.

He continued to walk around the small room, trying to imagine the young Itachi sneaking out of the main house to come here and draw after hours of kendo practice. He could imagine him sitting at the table, bruised hands sketching away delicately with graphite, blistered feet swinging from the high stool, dripping tiny beads of blood onto the floor below. Sasuke lowered his weapon down onto the table top, wondering how many times Itachi had used it – how many times the handle had bit into his soft palms and drawn blood.

A row of thickly-bound sketchbooks sat high up on a shelf as Sasuke passed them, and he stopped, intrigued – reaching up to pull one down carefully. They were covered in dust, and as Sasuke opened the heavy book it seemed to creak in his hands. It was filled with beautiful calligraphy practice. Some pages, brittle with age and rough to the touch, were covered in hundreds of exquisite kanji characters, so detailed they almost seemed printed. He flicked through the pages and admired the artistry. 

A small movement high up on the shelf caught Sasuke’s eye.

Something had slipped, a movement that was barely noticeable. He closed the heavy book in his hands and rested it on the table behind him, reaching up with dusty fingertips to feel along the gap in the shelf. A small piece of flimsy card no bigger than a postcard had slipped from between the old book covers. He brought it down, examining the object in his hands, wiping away the dust from its surface with his fingers.

It was a photo. Old and marked, and damaged at the corners with blurry stains of damp.

A woman held a small bundle in her arms, smiling at the camera as a man stood behind her, hand resting on her shoulder as he bent down slightly to fit into the frame. At their feet, a young child stood, hand tightly clutching at the fabric of the woman’s dress.

Sasuke felt his stomach crawl uneasily. He continued to look at the photograph in the dim light, touching a finger to the faces of the man and woman, smiling back at him through the camera lens. This was... 

‘Sasuke?’

He heard Itachi enter the room but couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He listened to the man’s footsteps on the floorboards, creaking gently under his weight, before he paused at the doorway. Outside the rain began to fall faster, the heavens opening wide above the forests and splitting with bolts of hot, white lightning.

‘Why do you have this?’ Sasuke held the picture tight between his fingers, unable to look away from the faces trapped within the faded photograph. Sasuke heard the clink of two cups of tea being set down on the table. Even though he’d asked, Sasuke wondered if he could bear to know the answer.

‘These people, they’re my…’

 _Mother and father_.

The words died on his lips and he found himself swallowing down around a hard lump in his throat. He felt sick, the sweltering late-summer air almost suffocating as it caught in his chest, warm and damp. Nervous sweat prickled the fine hairs on his forehead and made his t-shirt cling to his back. He looked again at the baby in his mother’s arms, at the child at her feet, clutching at her tightly. 

Itachi didn’t speak. He moved forward slightly, resting a hand on the table as he took a small step forward. Instinctively, Sasuke reached out and grabbed the heavy hilt of the shinai lying on the table, bringing the weapon forward in a sudden arc to point directly at Itachi’s throat. The bamboo sword rattled as it struck him, and he watched as the man held his hands up slightly, palms exposed, as if to try and calm him down.

‘I can explain if you’ll let me.’ His voice was quiet, calm – making Sasuke’s blood boil.

‘Like hell you will,’ he spat, ignoring how his hand trembled slightly around the handle of the weapon, the tip of the wooden blade resting on the base of Itachi’s exposed neck.

‘Sasuke please, you’ve got to listen me –’

‘I don’t have to listen to _anything_ you’ve got to say,’ he bit back, interrupting him as he pushed forward with the shinai. He threw the photo at Itachi’s feet, watching as it twisted and floated down through the air.

‘That’s me in the photo, isn’t it. As a baby. I’d recognise a photo of my mother anywhere.’ It wasn’t a question, and Itachi knew better than to try and reply with the blade at his neck.

‘And the kid – the kid is you? You're my...'

The similarity between the child in the photo and the man standing before him now was unmistakable – right from his dark eyes to his black hair. He had his mother’s hair, Sasuke realised, feeling sick to his stomach. His head flared with pain, ricocheting through his temples and making him feel dizzy.

Pushing hard enough to force Itachi to move aside, Sasuke barreled past him, clutching his weapon as he ran out into the rain. The storm was reaching its crescendo now, the rainfall deafening as it slammed into the gravel and the decorative ponds. Sasuke winced, hesitating for a moment before he ran to the side of the studio, pushing himself forward into the tree line of the looming forest. His bare feet sank into cool mud and he braced himself against a tree, leaning heavily on the shinai as he vomited hard onto the floor. His throat burned as he continued to retch, unable to open his eyes as his head swam violently. The ground felt like it would give way beneath him, and he found himself shaking with anger at the sound of the undergrowth moving behind him. 

Itachi had followed him, slipping between the trees to find the boy shaking, bent over at the waist, pale hand splayed against a dark tree trunk as he heaved into the forest floor. 

‘Sasuke, I need to explain.’

But Sasuke furiously shook his head and brandished the shinai in Itachi’s direction, holding him at arm’s length as he gasped for breath, trying hard to control the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. His arm shook weakly and his knees buckled. All the while, his brother remained calm and collected, infuriating him. 

‘Whether you want to hear it or not, it’s important.’

Sasuke swore under his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and spitting into the dirt. The tears gathering in the corner of his eyes prickled, and he relished in the white hot anger that blossomed in his gut, giving him some sort of strength.

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he replied, gritting his teeth as he braced himself against the tree and stepped forward, bringing the shinai up to strike at Itachi’s chest. The blade collided with a heavy thud, forcing Itachi to take a staggering step backwards until he was pinned up against a thick pine tree, the shinai across his chest and throat, holding him in place.

‘I don’t want to hear any of this. All this time you _knew_  - and yet you still…’ The rain was hammering down now, soaking into his shirt and jeans, running down his forehead and dripping from his chin, forcing him to shout just to be heard. He wanted to lift the blade and bring it crashing down into the man before him. 

‘Could you blame me?’ Itachi’s words were almost lost beneath the rumble of thunder. ‘I couldn’t bear to be without you.’ He reached up, fingers curling around the shinai that forced him into the rough tree trunk. ‘I tried – God, all this time I _tried_ Sasuke. Everything I did, I did for you.’

‘Don’t,’ he shouted back, pushing his free hand through his soaked hair as he fought hard to swallow down the choking tears in his throat. ‘Don’t you dare try and pin this on me Itachi – you fucking _knew_ what you were to me, and still you – ’ He choked, feeling bile rising in his throat as he stopped, unable to admit it out loud.

 _You’ve been fucked by your own brother._ A voice muttered in the back of his mind as he tried hard to control the urge to vomit again. _You’ve swallowed parts of him and, in turn, you’ve allowed him to devour you from the inside out_. _Worst of all? You enjoyed every second of it._

Itachi tested his grip on the weapon pinning at his chest, easing the blade’s pressure slightly, enough to make the boy’s grip slip and relax. He knocked the weapon from Sasuke’s hands, tossing it to one side where it landed in the undergrowth, hidden from sight among the thick ferns. He held on to the boy’s hip as he slid down to his knees in the mud, ignoring his protests and shouts as the boy attempted to move away, feet slipping in the wet dirt as he struggled to find purchase, slipping to his knees weakly. Itachi held on to him, refusing to let go.  

‘I’m sorry Sasuke.’

Sasuke turned his head, unable to look at him, wanting to hang on the anger that had flooded through him but finding it slipping through his fingers as Itachi’s hands held on to him, burning him through his clothing at the contact. His anger was ebbing, and he wanted to kick himself with how compliant he became in Itachi’s hands.

His _brother’s_ hands.

‘I know I should have said sooner,’ Itachi said, voice barely discernible from the heavy rain and rumbling thunder. ‘I didn't mean for you to find out this way - I only wanted to see how you were doing, but I couldn’t stop myself from getting close to you. Right from the moment I saw you on campus - I tried to keep my distance but I just…’

He could feel his knees sinking in the wet mud, wanting so desperately to cling on to the boy who was slipping through his fingers like the rain.

‘You don’t understand how much you mean to me. How glad I am that you came here with me. How happy I am that you _know_ – even if you hate me. Even if you never want to speak to me again, I’ve always…’

The thunder crashed overhead and blue lightning forked through the sky, illuminating the dense forest. Sasuke looked up and watched the electricity crack through the clouds. Rain blurred in his eyelashes and he blinked them away, not caring now how his hands were struggling to finding purchase in the thick mud, caking his training pants and soaking in to the bandages wrapped around his feet. Itachi sat on his knees in front of him, and as he tried to move forward, Sasuke found himself bringing up a hand to push at his chest, keeping him weakly at bay.

‘There’s so much I need to tell you.’

His head span, reeling from Itachi’s words, the softness of his voice, the grip on his hipbone. He looked up at his brother, watching as the rain bounced from his long wet hair, soaking in to his grey shirt and darkening his jeans in wet patches that crept their way along the fabric. His hand tightened into his shirt, feeling the rain squeeze from the thin cloth and seep out between his fingers. Part of him wanted to pull him closer, but part of him wanted to push him away. 

He couldn’t understand how his brother could be kneeling before him. How he’d never _known_. His family, his mother – all this time, nobody had said anything to him.

‘Please let me try and explain,’ Itachi said, hand still holding his hip, lips wet with rain.

Sasuke could only weakly nod, reluctantly, not missing how Itachi seemed to relax at the action, how his thumb gently stroked against his hipbone as if reassuring him. He wasn’t sure he wanted Itachi to explain. In explaining what they were to each other, Sasuke knew they’d be confronting uncomfortable truths neither one of them wanted to admit to.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, wishing that they were back at the lake shore, skimming round pebbles into the waves as the sun glinted off the water’s surface.

Itachi watched him, letting him keep him at arm’s length, knowing the boy needed space. He wondered if he’d ever let him hold him again – and somewhere deep down in his gut, Itachi knew that his uncle had been right. He’d been playing a dangerous game, and now that he was losing, he was going to have to pay the ultimate price. Who was he kidding? The boy would have had to have found out at some point. 

The rain continued to fall, unrelenting as it slipped through the tree tops and splattered onto the ground. Crimson spider lilies lay limply at Itachi’s knees, crushed beneath the weight of the rain and the disturbed mud. Absentmindedly, he reached down and plucked one of the heavy broken flowers from the wet floor. He took a deep breath, sinking back onto his heels as he twirled the lily in his fingers.

‘It began before you were born,’ he said, watching as the red spines of the flower fell loosely to the ground. ‘Long before you were ever a part of this wretched family.’

Above them, the storm slowly began to roll across the sky, chasing away the last humid traces of the September night.

 

* * *

 

 

_How did we get here?_   
_When I used to know you so well._   
_Well, how did we get here?_   
_Well, I think I know how._

_There is something I see in you,_   
_And it might kill me -_   
_But I want it to be true._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you have enjoyed this latest chapter - I've really enjoyed writing this piece, even though it tormented me for months as I had to work out some kinks in the plot for it all come together. I'm hoping to explain things more from Itachi's point of view in the next few chapters, as his version of events will prove interesting. I had an amazing trip to Japan which inspired this piece, particularly the Kyoto scenes at the lake. If you ever have the chance to visit Japan, you must go! I had a wonderful time and am hoping to be back out there in a few months. It was interesting to see that Naruto is still really popular in Japan - I think I'll always be writing Naruto fanficiton, even as other fandoms grow and become popular. I just love these characters so much! This chapter was heavily inspired by the song 'Decode' by Paramore - I know it's an oldie now, but I love it and think the tone really works for this chapter. (We're all allowed our guilty pleasures, right? Go and give it a listen!) Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews, I read every single one and love hearing your thoughts on this piece! Much love to you all, and thank you for being wonderful, patient readers. <3


End file.
